


How did we get here?

by FankayArt



Category: Jacksepticeye Power Hour (Web Series), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dead Body, Gen, Mention of abuse, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of Unhealthy Relationships, Questioning Existence, Scars, Sudden appearances, egos are unaware of each other, lots of questioning, not marked under relationships because Stacy never shows up, vague descriptions of murder, violent themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27157882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FankayArt/pseuds/FankayArt
Summary: “Who is Jacksepticeye?”The egos are scattered across the globe, all different, all unaware of their origins. They don't know where they came from, and constantly keep getting mistaken for someone else. Eventually, they all end up discovering that a YouTube celebrity looks exactly like each of them. Exactly, to the point it seemed like they must be twins of some kind. It wasn't until four years later they get the chance to meet them.So each of the egos, becoming desperate for answers, decide to take the journey to meet their doppelgänger… unaware that there seemed to be a lot more “copies” than they originally thought.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	1. Henrik von Schneeplestein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the story of a stubborn doctor.

And suddenly, he was _there_.

From where? No one knew. Henrik had no idea how he got there. Did he walk there? No, no… it felt more like an appearance. Like he had been weightless and empty before suddenly being dropped into existence. He had no actual memories to turn to and confirm if he did… exist, before this moment. What he _did_ know, at least, was his name. Yes… Henrik von Schneeplestein. Yes! Zhe good doctor. He's a doctor… of course. How could he forget? Did he forget?

His eyes slowly seemed to come into focus on the bright white surroundings around him, the haziness of it all starting to sharpen the longer he kept his eyes open. He squinted at the bright hall light above him before he looked down at himself. His doctor’s coat, shirt… his face was covered with something. Something a little scratchy, muffled his breathing and pushed the air he exhaled onto his glasses. _That was his mask._ He felt something pinching the bridge of his nose, and something was bordering the corners of his vision. _His glasses._

After reminding himself of his own accessories and senses, he glanced around at where he was. The smell alone could have told him where he was, a sterile and bland smell that almost any person would know. Long corridors, doors lining the hallway...

He was in… a hospital? Well, that was where doctors were meant to be… but why was he there? Why did he not remember anything? He moved from the oddly empty hallway to one where doctors strolled along and helped patients. Henrik didn't know why, but he was relieved to see other people. For a moment, he felt like he was alone in his strange and sudden existence.

The doctors around him didn't seem to even notice him standing there, too busy with their own jobs to notice a sudden new surgeon amongst them.

Henrik took a moment to take in his surroundings, blinking a few times before slipping off his mask and cap. He didn't need those unless he was operating, he shouldn't be wearing them right now.

… _was_ he meant to be operating? Was he meant to be somewhere? Was he forgetting something _really_ important?

He brushed off all of his questions for now and decided to take the safer route. He couldn't put a patient at risk when he hardly knew what was happening to himself, he needed to find someone who could tell him what was happening. He walked around the hospital, even checking employee only rooms in search of a trash can and made sure to properly dispose of his mask, cap, and gloves before walking further down the hall towards… what was he looking for again?

The doctor was still faintly dizzy. His head was a mess, just barely piecing himself together from his sudden appearance. He was still remembering… no, learning. Remembering implied that a memory came along with the information, but he had no memories. He was learning things, things he wasn't supposed to know, but did. He stopped in the middle of the hall and held onto his head as a headache began to form. He pressed further into his temples in an attempt to soothe it, but it didn't help and just seemed to be getting worse the more stressed he felt.

Soon, his sudden stop in the middle of the hall was followed up by a woman walking up to him with a stern look.

“Doctor, what are you doing standing around? Do you have a patient you need to attend to? If you're on break, there's a break room right over there.” Her voice had a noticeable accent, but Henrik’s was far stronger.

“I-I… don’t know, ma’am.” He stuttered out. His mind raced through things, though one thing he assumed was this must be a head nurse. Of course, they normally run the hospital. Shouldn't he know her? If he worked here?

“What do you mean you don't know?”

“I can't remember, ma’am.”

“You what?” Her stern look slowly softened, “… are you alright?”

“I… don't… know.” Henrik admitted quietly, creating an awkward situation for the both of them. Henrik would gladly break the ice if he knew how to, but he had no conversation topics. He couldn't even talk about the weather because he _could not remember_ anything about what was happening. It was all empty, and Henrik was slowly starting to become more and more panicked because of it.

She gave him a weird glance before starting to walk down the hall, “Follow me.”

Henrik did as she asked and kept a steady pace behind her before she came to a stop at a door. As she pushed the door, her eyes immediately snapped to a specific doctor sitting down at a table. Henrik immediately assumed this was the break room, with seats and a table in the middle of a very bland and empty space. Even the counters and paintings in there were very dull. His eyes drifted over to the coffee machine, but he swiftly snapped out of his trance as he heard the nurse talking.

“Jeff, would you mind helping him? I know you're on break but I really have my hands full right now…”

The doctor, Jeff, nodded and stood up, “Sure… something wrong?”

“He says he can't remember anything, just give him a “check up” and send him home.” The nurse said with a smile and walked out before the man could argue. She hurried down the hall and turned the corner.

Jeff walked up to Henrik and squinted at him, “I haven't seen you around here before… are you new?”

“... yes..?” Henrik said, though was confused by his own answer, “... I think so.”

Jeff clearly gave him a concerned look before inviting him into the break room, “Can you not remember?”

“No… I don't remember anyzing… No vait, I do remember my name! I am Henrik.”

“Is there… anything else you can remember?”

“Hm… no. Nothing.”

“Nothing? How did you get here?”

“I appeared here.”

“You… what?”

“... I only remember being here.” Henrik corrected, trying to make himself sound less crazy. Though by now, this doctor probably thought he was insane.

Jeff gave him another questioning look before sighing, “Here, let's look up your records. I'm sure we have something. That way we can send you home.” He assured, standing up and walking with Henrik out of the break room. While the other doctor was concerned for his health, Henrik was simply happy he could get some answers.

Jeff stopped at a lady sitting at her desk, resting his arm against the counter. She took a disapproving glance up and mumbled a quiet, “Can I help you?”

“Karen, can you find anything on doctor Henrik here? I think he's a little… under the influence, or… something, and needs to go home.” Jeff mumbled, then let out a quiet sigh. If this doctor _was_ drunk, he'd fire them on the spot. He hates to admit that it wouldn't be the first time he'd have to do that.

Karen sighed and searched up the name, then moved her hand over to her mouse as she waited for it to load. When it did, her face turned from bored, to confused and mildly concerned. Jeff noticed her changed expression immediately, and Henrik did as well.

“What is it? What's wrong?”

“He… he's not a doctor here.”

Jeff shot a glance over at Henrik, in which the supposed doctor shied away from. It just added to the list of questions in their heads, and especially Henrik’s. Henrik was mildly panicking while keeping a somewhat calm exterior. He hadn't fully believed he could just… appear there. Surely he was a doctor… or, he was someone. He had to have a past, right? But if he did have a past, what _was_ he doing here then? Why was he wearing a doctor’s coat? Was he doing something illegal?

“What… Henrik, what's your full name?”

“Henrik Schneeplestein.”

“... how do you spell that?” Karen asked, to which Henrik spelled out both his first and last name just in case. He didn't want it to be a mix up simply because his name was spelled wrong.

She clicked through records before saying, “No… you're not a doctor. Not a patient either.”

“Do you have an ID on you?” Jeff asked, starting to get more annoyed at the increasingly complicated situation they found themselves in.

Henrik noticed his anger and held a breath before he began searching his pockets for anything. His front pockets, back pockets, coat pockets... but found _nothing_. Not even a phone, or a wallet. He simply shook his head, “My pockets are empty.”

“And you don't know where you're from? No house..?” Jeff paused for a moment before asking, “Do you know where we are?”

Henrik paused to think about his answer before saying, “We are in… a hospital? I am from Germany. I think.”

“We _are_ in Germany.”

“ _Oh._ ”

Jeff let out a loud and frustrated sigh once again. _What_ were they meant to do in this situation? Technically Henrik was trespassing, but the man knew and remembered nothing about himself.

_What the hell were they supposed to do…?_

—o—

Henrik remembered his appearance like it was yesterday. It was sudden, and… strangely welcoming, despite the hardships that followed.

Jeff and the head nurse, who’s name was Suzan, both decided to let him stay at the hospital in the on-call room for a few nights, but it didn't last long. Even with Jeff and Suzi running the hospital, there were certain rules that needed to be abided by. They pondered having him stay in the hospital in one of the patient rooms, but Henrik quickly shut that idea down. He insisted the patient rooms were for those in need of care, and he felt completely fine. Even when there were plenty of extra rooms for now and, technically, he had a strong case of sudden amnesia to blame for his visit.

Henrik still refused, and would rather sleep on the floor than take up a patient's room that might become necessary later on.

Eventually the two doctors offered to let him stay at their place for a couple weeks, seeing as the man had no money and no memories… and honestly didn't seem like a harmful person to anyone. He was very energetic, happy, and a pleasant person to be around. He spoke truthfully and kept his word. He was humble, and strict when he needed to be. Henrik was very thankful for their hospitality, and in turn helped around the house when he could. They tried to get him to stay at the house when it came to work, however Henrik insisted on going to the hospital. In fact, he wanted to work there, if it was alright with them.

They settled on the fact they would have to get his ID first.

After a trip to the local station, it turns out Henrik ended up having no identity. Nothing at all. Nothing that connected him to where he was now. It ended up throwing him into a mess with the police, which was unfavorable… but he wasn't sure what else to do. The full truth was that he just… _appeared._

This put a dent into the two doctor’s plans… but they let Henrik stay nonetheless. After struggling to get an ID for him, they allowed him to start training. In fact, they learned Henrik was a shockingly good doctor. They hardly had to teach him anything, and he worked quickly and efficiently. His personality was fun yet blunt, but he was very serious when it came to his work. Though, they legally couldn't get him a job as a doctor just yet, he needed the proper degree. Instead, they allowed him, and paid him, to be an assistant.

With that money, he could start his four year training.

  
  
  


And, more than two years after his appearance, things were going well. He was halfway through his training.

  
  
  


He was roaming the halls, and was told about a room that needed clean up. As he walked in the empty room, he was thankful it was only an iv drip that needed to be moved. Not that he couldn't take anything else, but he simply hated the hassle.

He was a doctor, not a janitor.

But without a record, this was the closest job to a doctor he could get. Occasionally he would pass by the rooms and admire the surgeon’s work.

He felt like _that_ was where he belonged… but at least he was still in the hospital after appearing here out of nowhere. Illegal trespasser in doctors quarters to a sudden new surgeon? He didn't think he'd even be allowed in after that stunt.

One of which, he never fully understood himself, even now.

Even after tests, he came back negative for anything related to amnesia. There was nothing wrong with the CAT scan. Blood test was fine. He didn't have any symptoms, and his memory was perfectly good. In fact, it was _really_ good. He was very good at remembering things, even small details. It helped him plenty in his studies, at least for things he didn't already seem to know.

Henrik wrapped up the cords before grabbing the pole, starting to wheel the drip out of the room.

His mind wandered to his later shift after break. He was scheduled to work at the desk. He _loathed_ working at the desk, and Suzi seemed to notice that about him immediately. It wasn't that he couldn't sit still at the desk, but simply because it was such a bland job. Clicking people in, handing out forms, and staying in the same damn spot doing things on loop for hours. Henrik would even argue cleaning up the halls was better than the desk job.

Even so, it would help the doctors… so he didn't mind too much and pushed through it.

… but _he_ was a doctor.

He shook his head. No, he wasn't a doctor yet. That's what he was working towards. He needed _training._

As he walked down the hall, he waved towards some doctors passing by, but only those who were likely headed to the break room. He refrained from breaking concentration of the doctors that rushed by in a hurry.

Some of the other doctors smiled and waved back, others greeted him by name. Others just gave a small and quick smile up at him. Even if it was little, he appreciated being noticed. It helped the doctor feel like he belonged. Even some of the more strict doctors grew to love the hospital’s strange… anomaly.

To Henrik, this was his family, and he was perfectly content with that.

“... Jack..?”

Henrik glanced up at a kid looking up at him. A young teenager, probably.

Henrik gave him a confused glance as the kid continued, giddily jumping up and down, “You're Jacksepticeye! Holy shit-”

“Stop bothering the workers.” Their mother said sternly, pulling them along, “I'm so sorry.” She said quickly before pulling the kid along. Likely giving them a lecture to follow.

Henrik was still confused by the entire situation, watching as the woman walked away.

_Who was this Jack septic… person?_

That was odd.

His mind wandered a bit, but he quickly snapped himself out of his trance. He had a job to do, there was no time for this!

—o—

Occasionally in the several more months that passed by, some people in public would ask if he was this _Jacksepticeye_. It was rare, however, and only happened around once a month. Recently it was becoming more often he'd get mistaken.

Just earlier as he was sitting at the desk. He was setting up appointments, and there was a teen giving him an excited look. It wasn't just the teen, but the parent too. They didn't even have to say it, he knew what they were thinking. He had seen that look plenty of times before.

And so today was the day that it finally ate away at him. Originally he didn't even want anything to do with this Jack person, but it wouldn't hurt to look… right? He gave in and decided to search it up.

He was resting in the break room. He was spinning in one of the spinning chairs, and snacking on some vending machine chips. Henrik rested his arms on the small desk that was in the corner of the room and looked it up on his phone, searching exactly what he heard.

_Jacksepticeye._

Once he saw the green logo, he clicked on it and it opened up. His eyes scanned the banner, then he looked down at the videos. He gave a confused look as he noticed the thumbnails, then he clicked on one of the videos.

“ **_TOP OF TH-_ **” Henrik quickly turned down the volume of his phone after the loud voice boomed through his phone's microphone, which earned a laugh from Jeff who was currently on break with him.

Jeff pulled his chair over and looked down at the screen as he sat next to him, “... is that you?”

“Vhat? No.” Henrik said quickly, staring at Jack.

To be fair, he looked _exactly_ like him… it was like a mirror image of Henrik. Well, Henrik’s hair was a bit longer, and he wore glasses, but their face was exactly the same. There was no difference between them in the slightest. Henrik found it a bit unsettling, but… maybe they were related?

“Maybe… that's your family.” Jeff said quietly, thinking the same thing as Henrik was.

“No, I am German. Not Irish.” Henrik muttered stubbornly, looking up at Jeff.

“Doesn't mean it isn't possible. I mean, you look exactly alike.” Jeff leaned back a bit in his chair, “Maybe you moved.”

Henrik sighed and leaned forward a bit on the desk, “It iz a coincidence.” He muttered, trying to convince Jeff as well as himself. Jeff left it off there, but that didn't stop him from telling Suzi. He knew if anyone could convince him, it would be her.

So after Henrik’s work day, Suzi confronted him about the situation.

Just before Henrik was about to head home, he grabbed his items from his locker before slamming it closed. He was tired of the computer, at least because of how repetitive and boring the tasks were. He'd be able to stare at a computer nonstop if he was actually doing something he _liked._

  
  


“Hey Henrik.”

Henrik glanced over and his eyes met with Suzi’s as she leaned against the doorway. Her lips curved up into a small smile, “Jeff told me about your twin.”

“We are not related.” Henrik said stubbornly, packing his things.

“Actually, Jeff sent me a few things while I was on break and you two look pretty alike to me.”

Henrik let out a quiet sigh before turning his head to look at her, “Coincidence.”

“Henrik, I mean it.”

Henrik stared at her and she stared back. She seemed to be fully serious upon the situation, and Henrik knew Suzi was just, if not more, stubborn than he was. His eyes wandered away and he fidgeted with the messenger bag he normally kept his things in, “... and vhat do you vant me to do about it? He's a stranger to me. I don't know him!”

“Henrik, you might be able to figure out who you are! This would help with your education, and fill up that gap that everyone is concerned about.” Suzi persisted, “Even if it's for a second, I think you should at least give it a try.”

It finally hit Henrik that he never fully told them about his situation. He knew it was very clear he seemingly appeared there, but the both of them were still set upon that he just didn't remember.

He decided to avoid that topic for now… saying that _would_ make him sound crazy.

“You sound very certain zhat ve are related.”

“You look _exactly_ alike.You two even sound alike, so don’t give me that.”

Henrik arched a brow at that, “Ve sound alike?”

“Well kinda. Different accents. You know what I mean…” Suzi crossed her arms, “You should at least look him up… or even go see him! Find something so you two can meet up maybe.”

“... you just vant me to go on a vacation, don't you?”

“You fucking know I do.” Suzi said with a small giggle, “This could be good for you! And maybe you might find out about yourself. If not? Enjoy your vacation!”

“But the money… I need to save up for my studies.”

“A plane ticket for one and a small apartment for one is not that costly, and it would be nice for you to explore a little. This could help you figure out what you're forgetting, who knows! Besides, you've been stuck in this hospital since the day we knew you. Since the day _you_ knew you. You need a break.”

“You do have a point.” Henrik said with a small chuckle, scrolling through his phone. 

He briefly watched one of the newest ones, which was an announcement that he was headed to a convention. PAX East, in Boston Massachusetts.

“Zhen... perhaps I'm headed to America.”


	2. Chase Brody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the story of a lonely father.

Sitting alone in his apartment, Chase took some time to think to himself. A quiet break from us paperwork, as he looked out at the crowded sidewalks from the large window in his room. His eyes scanned down at all the people and the buildings of his street. The sun was slowly setting and the golden light poured in from the windows, landing softly upon the desk and the large amounts of clutter residing on it. His apartment was littered with it. Empty bottles, papers, takeout boxes… after all, it only was cleaned up when someone came over. Besides his best friend (who usually didn’t mind the mess), no one came over at all. The only exception being the kids, once a month. And that’s _if_ Stacy let’s them visit.

Chase’s arms rested on his desk and he stared out the window with empty eyes. Tears began to form, but he tried his best to hold them back.

_Where did things go wrong?_

He supposed it started when he first… appeared. That's as well as he could phrase it. It was a strange feeling, the night he seemed to just suddenly exist. He wasn't a kid, no. He was an adult. A fully grown adult with no family, no friends, no _identity._ He was at a house party, with everyone around him being as chaotic as they could be. Getting drunk or making out… or both. It sent Chase’s anxiety through the roof, especially when he realized he couldn't remember _anything_. The only thing he had on his mind was perhaps this was some form of… sudden amnesia? Does that happen to people?

Rather than make the right decision to leave however, he decided a few drinks wouldn't hurt. Call it instinct or pure stupidity, but he needed something to take his mind off things. So, he proceeded to get wasted… and woke up the next morning with someone. It wasn’t just a one night thing unfortunately, as he had a quick lived relationship and marriage with them. Skipping entirely over being friends it seemed. Was that relationship healthy? No, it was filled with late night arguments and passive aggressive comments. Both sides were guilty, and should have seen the signs that a one year relationship ending in marriage was a horrible mistake. It was rushed. Even so, they ignored the signs and had kids in their short lived love. With that, their relationship was forced together.

Needless to say, putting pressure on that already stressful relationship caused it to shatter. They grew to hate each other, and couldn’t return to the love they once had.

Chase became only concerned for his kids. He _loved_ his kids, he loved them so much… and Stacy did too. That was the only thing they could agree on, that they did what was best for them. That soon led to her kicking Chase out after one too many nights at the bar, even if they were harmless and only with his friends. Or, friend. Chad. She refused to see the fun late night trips as such, saying it was not a good example to set for his children.

In her defense, she was right… but in his defense, he never really drank much and it was usually just fun nights out. 

She accused that being the only reason their relationship ended, but Chase knew there was more than that. Stacy had trust issues, and when she heard Chase talk about amnesia? Her skepticism grew. To his kids, he just wanted them to have a loving family… but he never could tell them about himself. He had no stories to tell about his childhood. He could never tell them who their grandparents were. He never remembered his own parents. Even after medications from the doctor he remembered _nothing_ . He was convinced they didn't do anything for him, it was just something for the doctor to scam him with. Pay more money than necessary _._ And Stacy… she was skeptical of Chase already from his amnesia and excuses he had to come up with because he remembered _nothing_ about himself. Once she found out he had no identity at _all?_ She didn't believe it for a second, thinking it was some cover story. That Chase was running from something, and her lack of trust only grew with their broken relationship. It made Chase question himself most of the time, and… made him feel _awful_ that he couldn’t remember anything.

_Who was he? Why couldn't he remember his past? Why was the only thing he remembered that night be his name? How did he end up there? How was there no records of him at all? How did he just… appear?_

He had no answers, for himself or for his wife.

Now, his ex-wife. Who filed for divorce three years after, and took everything from him. He was evicted after lacking the money to keep the old house and he was forced to move to a small apartment on the edge of town.

He could only see his kids once a month, and if Stacy found the amount of alcohol in his fridge? He'd probably never get to see them for the rest of his life, she'd make sure of that.

His eyes drifted to the setting sun when he suddenly remembered he needed to go to the store. He was running out of some snacks and milk… and alcohol. He was already craving more. Too much thinking, he'd rather get wasted than end up crying on the bathroom floor. Actually, he'd probably end up crying on the bathroom floor anyways, but at least if he got wasted he'd hardly remember it. Often he got so drunk he thought he could see his own reflection stare back at him. It had become a problem.

He let out a heavy sigh before slowly pushing himself up. His shoulders fell heavy as he slipped his phone into his pocket. If he really reached the point he didn't care, he would probably lie there forever.

Thankfully, today didn't seem like that kind of day. Maybe he could be hopeful for something… maybe something good will happen.

He slipped on his coat he had appropriately hung on the edge of his couch and slipped on the shoes that were on the livingroom floor. He hesitated before walking into the kitchen and glancing at what he had in the fridge.

It wasn't much, but he did have a box of leftovers.

… fuck it, he'd order a pizza anyways.

And with that in mind, he slammed the fridge door shut, grabbed his keys, and locked the door on the way out.

—o—

Chase’s pace quickened as he walked down the street. Perhaps he should've taken his car… that would have been quicker, and he wouldn't have to worry about the sun quickly setting behind the line of buildings on the horizon. With the stores lining the street, his mind was focused on getting there and back as soon as he could. This wasn't the kind of place he should be walking back late. Alone.

There were the sounds of people talking, someone calling out a name. Everything blurred together, and it wasn't until someone walked up to him when he stopped. It threw him off and he gave the kid who was now standing in front of him a weird glance. The kid was giving him a strange look as well. They had an awkward stare-off, if that's what you'd call it.

The kid looked around thirteen, maybe fourteen. Before Chase could question him, the boy asked;

“Are you… Jack? Jacksepticeye?”

“Uh… no, I think you've got me confused with someone else.”

“Really? Wow… you look exactly like him!” The boy grinned again, “Can we still take a picture? I want to prank my friends!”

“Oh? U-uh… sure?” Chase had no idea how to react to the situation, but it would make the kid’s day, so why not. There wasn't any harm in it.

The kid called his mother over and she persisted that asking strangers for pictures was rude, but Chase assured her it was fine. Even with half of his assurance simply being he had no idea how to say no to this kid, or to kids in general. He seemed so excited… and plus, it would be fun for him. If it made the kid happy, he wouldn't mind at all.

Once they finished, the boy and his mother said thank you before walking off. Chase waved before turning and starting to walk off. At least they were nice about it. 

Though the words rang in his head as he strolled down the sidewalk. _What did that kid say? That I looked like someone named Jack? Jacks epic eye?_

He decided he'd look it up later, if he remembered to. For now, he had to focus on getting to the store and home.

—o—

The sun had gone down on the way back. He didn't even get everything he wanted in fear of returning home in the dark with his hands full of groceries. Thankfully he made it back just as the sun was completely out of view.

He unlocked the door and walked in, closing and locking it behind him. He gently tossed the bag of groceries onto the table before slipping off his jacket and tossing it on the couch. He pulled out the milk and made sure to put it in the fridge. Once he finished doing that, he leaned against the counter. He let out another quiet sigh as he looked around. He felt like he was being watched but, perhaps that was just him being paranoid.

All he could think about was... what should he do now? He was too tired to do anything productive… or do anything, really. He honestly wasn't in the best mood to do anything productive. Maybe he could watch a TV show? There was that new show out on Netflix-

Chase was snapped out of his train of thought by a ping from his phone. He quickly grabbed his phone and glanced at it with another quiet sigh. He hoped it wasn't anything from his boss.

Thankfully, it wasn't. It was from his friend, Chad.

Chad

_Hey dude, do you go by Jack now? Lol there's this guy that looks exactly like you on YouTube_

Chase stared at it for a moment. There was that name again… strange. So it wasn't Jack _epic_ eye, it's Jack _septic_ eye. Not as cool in his opinion, but he didn't judge.

Chase

_Nah bro, i'm still good old Chase runnin bro average, promise. What’s this channel name?_

Chad

_Jacksepticeye, its like if you had an Irish accent :P_

_I swear you look exactly the same, I just saw him in my recommended man_

Chase swiped away and tapped on YouTube, then searched exactly what Chad had written him. He thought the name was strange, but honestly there were a lot of stranger names on YouTube than that. He had a few lone comments on his videos saying he looked like someone named Jack… was this the person they were talking about?

Sure enough, the channel popped up. The green septiceye banner and all. 

Chase scrolled through the videos and pressed play on one of them. He glanced up at the camera in the top left of the video and his eyes widened.

It _did_ look like him. Exactly like him even. The voice definitely had an accent, there was no denying that, but even the voice sounded alike. It wasn't like how you'd normally spot a small difference, maybe the nose was off. Maybe it was the chin, or… something, but no. They looked _exactly the same_. Like somehow he did all that and just didn't remember it.They looked like the same person, or at the very least, related. You'd think they were perfect twins.

Maybe Chase... did have a family?

But how would he have family in _Ireland?_ He lives in California. Did he move? Why wouldn’t he remember that if he did? Or… was this all a coincidence? Chase had far more questions than he did answers, and it was starting to give him a headache to match with his rising anxiety.

Chase

_Holy shit you’re right bro he looks exactly like me_

Chad

_I KNOW RIGHT_

Chase

_How come I'm only now figuring this out??_

Chad

_I mean you work all day and on days off you hole yourself up inside and drink_

Chase

_You didn't have to call me out like that_

Chad

_You know it's true bro!_

_So are you guys related or smth??_

Chase

_I have no idea_

Chase ignored the rest of Chad’s text messages. Most asking about how he couldn’t know for certain if they were or weren't family. He didn’t have the time or energy to come up with a lie, or expose the full truth and get a massive amount of questions to follow.

He searched up a few more things about him and discovered he was visiting the United States soon. Specifically Massachusetts, for something called PAX. A gaming convention.

This was technically the only chance he'd get for a while to meet him… but what if it _was_ a coincidence? What if he just makes himself look like an idiot? At least PAX seemed like fun… so it wouldn't be that much of a wasted trip. He could probably find some place to crash on the edge of town there, and maybe rent a car. He did need a break from everything… but was this really such a good idea? And his kids…

His hands came up and ran themselves through his hair. This was stupid. He's overthinking things like he always does. He shouldn't go. He has too much here, he's already barely scraping by with the money he had… though he did get a big paycheck recently, and he had a few vacation days he could work with… time away might do him some good-

_No, no. He couldn't… right?_

His hands came back down from his hair and he rubbed his eyes a bit before picking up his phone.

_Was he really that desperate for answers? That he'd meet a complete stranger just to be sure?_

_This is impulsive._

_This is... so stupid._

_It's probably all a coincidence._

_Am I really going to go this far to figure out where I came from?_

_To get answers… if he even has any?_

Chase stared down at his phone screen.

**Your flight leaves April 3rd at 7:20am.**

Yes, he was.


	3. Jackieboy Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the story of a determined superhero.

  
One moment he felt like he was floating.

Not like he was flying, but like… there was nothing solidifying, keeping him there. Like a thought, or words in a void. An echo. All there was being a conforming sense of warmth, or what felt like warmth. He just felt numb, truly. He had no definitive way to describe it. It felt so nice, and so calming…

...before he was instantaneously thrown into a very _very_ cold situation. The man had not even opened his eyes for the first time, and he was already _freezing._

The sudden change caused the hero to shiver heavily, and he swiftly gripped onto his arms as a strong gust of wind blew at him. It nearly made him topple over, considering how new all of this felt he was surprised he managed to stand his ground. He wasn’t even given time to question any of it…

Thankfully he had his... suit, to keep him warm.

His face felt oddly numb and he tapped at it with his gloves. It took him a moment to remind himself that was his mask, and that he was wearing gloves. There were several things he was ready to question, one being why he was in a suit to begin with, and why he was wearing a mask... but first he needed to figure out where he was.

Finally, the hero’s eyes blinked open and he scanned his surroundings.

His eyes widened and his expression showed a look of pure _horror._

His breath caught in his throat as his eyes were met with a city hundreds of feet below him. He instinctively backed away from the edge as fast as he could, nearly tripping over his own feet. He looked around the roof he was on, just to notice there was no way down. No stairway, no… nothing. Just vents. _How had he gotten up here?_

Well, he never really felt like he got up there… he just kind of… _existed_ there.

His hands immediately reached for his pockets, for anything… but he had nothing. No phone, no tools… nothing. He took the time to look down at himself, noticing the odd suit he had on. It was form fitting, but not necessarily skintight. The suit was entirely red, but there were noticeable seams at the elbows and knees, where it was a darker shade of red for his gloves and boots for the suit. A very simple design, and the material it was made of was strong and light. He could even feel a vest beneath his suit. His hands then pulled back his hoodie just to know it was there, then slid it back on. He already knew about his mask…

But his eyes were drawn up by some glowing green, and he pulled at it to get a closer look at what it could possibly be. He stared in disbelief as he felt that it was his hair. His hair seemed to wave around as if it were weightless, a toxic green color. The hero desperately wanted a mirror, or something to see himself… but was very quickly reminded he was on a very tall building.

His eyes scanned around again, trying to find _anything_ that would help him get down. Surely there had to be something?

Instead, his mind was being bombarded with new information, and intrusive thoughts. One very persistent one being that he needed to jump.

Jump off this building? He was tens of stories up, if not a hundred or more. If he jumped, he would go _splat_ on the concrete. What the fuck was he thinking?

Even so, the urge became more and more tempting. Not because he was on a suicide mission, but because he felt like he was forgetting something. Something important.

_Great, go jump off a building. That’ll jog my memory._

His eyes wandered around the concrete slab of a roof. If he tried to wait here… who knows how long it would take for someone to find him. Would he be stuck there for days? Weeks?

… could he last that long without water? He really needed to remember some more important things and not just have a random urge to _leap off the damn roof._

Even so, the hero gently nudged his foot closer and closer to the edge, keeping his stance strong in case another gust of wind went by. Slowly but surely, he leaned over a bit to look down.

He could see the tiniest figures of people walking along the sidewalk as he stared down from his post. The tiniest breeze sent the hero to his knees immediately, bracing himself as a gust of wind came by. His body shivered, at the cold and fear of possibly falling.

Slowly he lowered himself down onto the concrete rim of the roof, crossing his arms as he leaned against it. He stared out at the sparkling city lights that shined even brighter the further the sun set. His eyes drooped the longer he stared out at them, but he refused to fall asleep. His mind was racing through far too many things to fall asleep. How did he suddenly arrive here? How he got here, on this roof with no way down.

_Maybe that's just his superhero backstory!_

He smiled at the thought, even though the situation he was in was not something to take lightly.

The hero stared down at the streets, at all the people, cars, the shining lights of the city. It was beautiful from here… an amazing and beautiful sight he could stare at for hours.

The bluish haze that weaves through the buildings, the red coming from headlights, and an array of different colors… a rainbow, from all the glowing billboards. The yellowish, white, and sometimes blue lights from within buildings. The lights upon the bridge some cars had turned to cross, the lights from boats traveling across the water. The light of the moon, reflecting in the mass of water around the city... all of it. Jackie loved it all. He wished he could view the city this way every night. It was a sight he could never grow tired of.

A gust of wind pressed up against the hero’s back and nearly launched him forward, snapping him out of his trance immediately. He fell backwards onto the roof against the wind, and quickly kicked himself away from the edge. His heavy breathing slowed back down, and eventually he slowly stood back up.

There had to be _some_ way down. Surely someone would need to come up here to repair.

He checked the roof again, much more attentive than before. He walked, behind all the ventilation and anything that could possibly conceal some way down.

His walking quickened and he jogged around, looking at everything up on the roof. He noticed a trapdoor in the floor and tugged at it, but it was locked. A frustrated sigh escaped his lips and he hesitated before pulling even harder against the handle.

To his surprise, the metal handle bent and snapped off, sending Jackie toppling backwards in an attempt to regain his balance. The back of legs smacked into the stone edge and he could slowly feel himself tilting backwards, but he managed to stop himself in that position.

His eyes stared down at the handle.

_Did I do that?_

He looked at it, and the torn metal around it. It even bent by his hand when he pulled at it. His other hand reached up and he tried to bend it with both hands, which earned a satisfying bend as the metal twisted in his hands.

He eventually noticed he was having the same, or at least similar floating sensation he had earlier. The hero immediately glanced down at his feet to notice he was _flying_.

He let out an excited scoff as he kicked his legs in the air.

_So that's how he got up here!_

Well, maybe not. He definitely felt less like he was already here and more like he just suddenly existed. Even so, this new ability he discovered was definitely how he was getting down.

Of course. The costume, the mask… he was a superhero! With super _powers_ ! He’s supposed to be saving people, how could he _ever_ fucking forget? Did he forget? How was he even here in the first place?

He set all those questions aside and slowly floated back over the roof. His control was wobbly at first, and he _refused_ to go near the edge until he got the hang of his abilities better. Though it didn't take long, as it all seemed to come naturally to him. He did circles, and flips, and flew up further into the sky before descending back onto the roof.

An hour later, he was already standing at the edge of the roof confidently. He knew now that if he were to fall, he wouldn't go splat on the pavement, and that was definitely a better sign.

A harsh gust of wind blew and Jackie was immediately tipped off the edge. A hero was protecting this town tonight, and _no_ criminal was getting past him.

—

“Jackie, you gotta pay rent.”

“I know I know I'm working on it.” His fingers were tapping furiously against his keyboard, but after a moment he stopped and looked up at his friend, one who had graciously taken him off the streets and into an actual apartment. It wasn't great, but it was much better than with the rats, that's for sure. It had only been three months since he appeared… and so much had happened within that time. He did find out he was in New York. Queens, to be exact. Jackie refused to let himself have a break at all in the time he was here. The adrenaline of fighting crime was the one thing that got him out of bed in the morning, and hell, he wasn't going to let anything stop him.

“Yea? You doin’ it now on your computer?”

“No… this is work.” He said firmly, refusing to even look up at him. Even if it wasn't the best computer considering he had to scrounge up as much money as he could off his previous jobs, it worked. So did his flip phone.

His roommate let out a frustrated sigh, “Come on man… you go out at nights and you say you're workin’, you've gotta have more money than this. What do you do all night?”

“Go to the nearest bar and have a little fun. This job doesn't pay well and you know it, it's tough.”

“Number one, that's bullshit.” Jackie glanced up at his roommate with a raised brow before he continued, “I'd fuckin’ smell it on ya if you went to the bar! You don't fuckin’ drink, and that's a stupid excuse.” Jackie let out a hefty sigh and looked back down at his computer, continuing to type into it as his roommate kept lecturing him. To be fair, that was a pretty fucking stupid excuse… he should've just said he took walks or something.

“And two, you could go find another job that pays better. You're a hard worker, Jackie.”

Jackie looked up at him with a heartfelt smile before looking back at his laptop, “... Thanks… but this is the job I enjoy. You know I keep getting fired from every other place.”

“Because you keep breaking things.”

“I don't do it on purpose…” Jackie muttered, trying to remain focused on his work. At least now he had a much better handle on computers, but he still had trouble with difficult door handles, and very delicate items. The smallest things could crack under his touch, and he would rather remain calm and focused on his work than smash his keyboard on accident as he tried to listen to his angered roommate.

“What was that?”

“Nothin’.”

“Come on man… I'm trying to help you out here. Help us out! We gotta figure some shit out here.”

Jackie paused for a moment, slowing down a bit on what he had been working so furiously on before. He let out a loud sigh before looking up at his friend, “How about this. I keep the place clean, and do the dishes and all that, wash clothes… and you pay for everything? I'll bring food back for us. How does that sound?”

His friend paused with his arms slowly crossing. Jackie winced his eyes a bit and showed a small, nervous smile. Yeah… this already wasn't sitting well with him.

“ _You?_ Do all the cleaning, and washing clothes, and all the things that require a _delicate touch?_ The guy who got fired for breaking things because of how strong a grip he has?”

“I've been… working on it?” Jackie squeaked out, “... okay Adam, listen listen… I work out a lot, and… this will help me learn my own strength! It's a win win. I can still do the things I love, and in the process I'll help out around the house.”

“Only if you tell me somethin’.”

Jackie unknowingly held his own breath, nervous of what it might be. He turned his eyes to face the computer so his friend couldn't tell the nervous look on his face. He became clicking at the website he was on once again, “... what is it?”

“What do you actually do every night? I don't judge, man, I just need to know.”

Jackie let out a quiet sigh, resting back against the couch as he looked down at the notes on his computer. He typed in a final line of code. His lips curved up into a small smirk as he saw the final pieces of the code he needed from those weird, cursed websites. He could now finally track these fuckers down, and tonight was the night he'd beat them to a pulp for the crimes they committed.

It's about time.

He took a moment to appreciate his victory before saying, “... I work out.”

—

Hours later and Jackie was held onto a fire escape, looking down at the building he needed to break into. It was dark out, so thankfully his dark maroon costume kept him concealed.

He learned from the first couple days that flying was a big _no_ unless it was necessary. He'd rather people believed some strange maniac was running around in a suit, than a maniac with _superpowers_ was running around in the suit. Unfortunately he doubted much would change their mind about the whole _vigilantes are bad_. Which they are, he's technically bad, but a good bad? Not a bad good though. Unlawful good. Lawbreaking good. That's it.

He quickly snapped himself out of his thoughts and scanned the area for an entrance. Eventually he settled on windows, and jumped down from his spot. Slowly he walked over and attempted to pull open any windows he could, but none seemed to be open. He let out an annoyed huff. He was very tempted to break the glass and rush the place, but he wouldn't want to risk them using someone as a hostage. That… and he has not discovered if he is knife or bulletproof yet. Considering he was wearing a vest under his suit, he assumed that was a no. He was also, definitely not in the mood to find out.

The most he found out was that he was pinch, punch, and tickle proof. The tickling he found unfortunate considering how fun it seems from his perspective, but he must sacrifice some of the little things for his superpowers!

He kept some optimistic and happy thoughts on his head, often distracting himself with funny quips through the seriousness of the situation so he wouldn't panic. As he tried all the windows, he eventually tried the back door, and when it was locked his hands immediately went for the picks he stashed in his belt. It hardly took him much time before he pressed it into place and turned the lock, sneaking in quietly.

The place was surprisingly clean and homely looking… but perhaps that was for leading people inside. A false sense of security.

His eyes drifted to the basement door, and he went completely silent to try and listen.

His focus shifted to his super hearing, listening to cars driving by… people talking… sounds of headphones, someone is playing Sunflower, fuck yeah.

No no he went too far. Is there anything below him?

… yes. He heard a single clank of metal. There's muffled voices. Someone's alive down there. The closer he listened, the more it sounded like just one person and their victim.

His hands reached for the picks again, but he stopped. This guy could have been clever and bolted the door from inside. Well… considering he let himself be tracked this easily maybe he was stupid enough… but likely, no. The other situation he could do was try and lead him out, but that might cause them to kill the victim.

Or… maybe they wouldn't. They do need them alive after all.

Jackie was unfortunate enough to know that most victims are kept alive. That's one of the main attractions of the dark web.

His mind was stuck between the two situations. Either he makes a noise and risks the killer getting rid of the hostage then and there… or, he rushes the basement and risks a hostage situation if he isn't fast enough.

Both were big risks, but waiting wasn't an option. These normally last all night and by the end, the killer gets rid of the victim.

His eyes landed on the door, and his mind decided on rushing in. At least then… he would give them hope. He could do something rather than sit upstairs and hear the sounds of struggling. Or worse, a gunshot.

He picked open the door’s lock, and the moment the sound clicked open, he forced his body against the door. A chain that had held the door shut from inside was snapped off. He didn't even take the time to rush down the stairs, or fully take in the room. He jumped from the top step, all the way to the ground and looked around for a second before his eyes locked on his target, who was reaching for his gun on the table to his right.

Jackie swiftly turned and used his abilities to get to the killer faster. Pressing his foot into the ground and thrusting himself, slamming into the back of the killer with his elbow first.

It was graceful by no means, but it was quicker, and that's what he needed right now.

He steadied himself, keeping himself standing while the killer had a moment of hesitation as the pain set in. The murderer had moved his hand on the gun, and was ready to aim it when Jackie instinctively slammed his other hand as hard as he could against the man’s arm in a panic. He heard a loud snap as he did so, followed by a pained yell.

Jackie took the opportunity to further dissociate the murderer by slamming his head into the metal table, immediately knocking him unconscious. Jackie had to take a second to first realize how quickly that went… and to make sure he didn't accidentally kill the guy.

To be fair… that could have gone a lot worse, and he did deserve it.

He set him down on the ground, then turned and walked over to the camera and computer that was on. It still had a lot of people there, but he didn't bother trying to shut it off. The police needed this for evidence and no one knew the password to the computer. He settled for glancing at the users before turning the camera towards the wall.

Immediately people began leaving, but Jackie didn't care. He walked over to the woman tied to the chair. She was panicked, and rightfully so. Jackie did just jump in here, full costume and all, and break a guy’s arm with his hand.

He held up a single finger to his mouth before pointing it to the camera to show they had to be quiet as the video was still going.

The girl nodded slowly and Jackie grabbed a knife from the table. She was panicking again but he just walked around and cut her out of her restraints. Her arms, then legs. She then pulled off the cloth that was in her mouth. She was ready to say something when Jackie had already begun rushing up the stairs with the unconscious killer in tow, and she followed behind quickly.

When they finally got upstairs, Jackie used the rope he snagged from the basement to tie up his hands.

“T-Thank you…” She said in a quiet, shaky voice.

Jackie smiled, “Don't worry ma’am, it's my job. Can you call the police for me?” He asked and nodded his head towards the phone on the wall. She nodded in return and held onto the phone shakily she began dialing 9-1-1.

“Don't worry, I'll stay here until the cops arrive. I don't think he's gonna wake up, but just to be sure.”

“Thank… you. Um… what should I say..?”

“Tell them I came in and left.”

“Okay…” She waited for them to answer, and while she talked on the phone, Jackie stared down at the killer.

There was a risk that she could have died… if the killer had that gun on his belt, she would have died. If he knocked instead of rushed in, she could have died. She was just a kid… fifteen, maybe sixteen. It sickened him that people would do this, but it filled him with a sense of joy that he was able to save someone, and many more people down the line because he caught this one man.

Sometimes he could only save the people down the line, and not the person there… but that didn't stop him from fighting to try and save everyone.

There was a silence as she finished the call. Police sirens had already sounded from far away. She paused before turning to Jackie, “So…”

The hero let out a scoff, “I get it, the costume looks silly-” Jackie’s words were cut off when she hugged onto him tightly. It was a surprise, but eventually he slowly and gently hugged her back. He rubbed her back soothingly as she cried in his arms. She was trying to hold herself together and Jackie did his best to calm her down, “Hey… it's okay, shhh… you're safe now.”

“I was so scared…”

“I know, I know…” He kept gently rubbing her back, then glanced back over at the murderer that was tied up in the corner.

This was what kept him going. Through all the bad days, and the people he couldn't save. The ability to save more always kept him going.

  
  
  


Jackie watched from a nearby roof as the girl, he now knew her name was Michele, was escorted out by the police and questioned her. The others took the killer and locked him up. For good.

“Better not see him again.” He mumbled, then glanced down at his phone towards the time, “And it's already eleven… damn.”

It was only then he realized he was forgetting something.

_ADAM’S DINNER. SHIT._

  
  
  


When he arrived at midnight with Mc Donald's, you could imagine Adam was angry. Though… the fact Jackie did stick to his word in getting dinner. He couldn't stay mad at Jackie for long, as when they sat down to eat, Jackie ate that food like his life depended on it. He seemed just as starving, if not more so than Adam. Adam just scoffed and shook his head, turning on the TV so they could watch some shows.

They were pals… even if Adam was a cop.

  
And Jackie would continue to keep the city safe, in the years following.

—

Jackie was at the apartment. He was taking a short break from fighting crime, as he should enjoy his victories every so often. He decided it would be good for him. At first he was watching the news, but they just kept talking about his "villainous" vigilante acts. Some people did seem to stand up for him, but they were quickly silenced by others. One did stand up for him and stuck to that which was nice… but they ridiculed them, even when they gave facts on dropping crime rates. It filled Jackie with rage that they would do that, and he really wanted to talk to them, say it was okay… it just made him want to say thank you to all of them but he couldn't, and that made him sad.

He decided that was definitely not the way to relax.

Instead, he decided to just scroll through YouTube, he was watching a few PewDiePie videos, and occasionally switched over and watched random videos, other gaming videos… Eventually he got a recommendation for a Spider-Man game play through by Jacksepticeye.

“Fuck yeah, the new Spider-Man game! Can't buy it… guess I'll just have to watch it.” He muttered spitefully. _If only being a superhero paid better_ , he thought before taking a sip of his soda, clicking on the video.

Within the first loud seconds, he nearly choked on his soda. Not because of how loud he was… well, maybe that was a part of it, but he looked exactly like Jackie. He sounded exactly like him. You'd think they were twins…

 _Are we super clones??_ The thought came off as a joke, but the more he thought about it… considering he can fly, it wasn't that impossible…

Still, he looked down at the Spider-Man game, and as weird as it was hearing his own voice coming through the video, he found it pretty entertaining. Especially when he noticed he had a heavier accent, it made him wonder where he was from.

Immediately after he searched up more on Jack, looking up _who_ exactly he was. Irish, so that explains the accent. Unfortunately Jackie definitely has no money to fly or visit Ireland… so no meeting him.

The further he looked, he noticed that Jack was visiting a con in Manhattan. _That's pretty fuckin close..._

His smile returned, and as he looked at the prices he settled on the cheapest he could buy. He could just sneak in if he wanted to see Jack. Who would stop him? They were probably related, and they look exactly the same so he could sneak in as Jack himself if he needed to. This would be so much fun!

_At last, his Spider-Man costume can come in handy!_   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly but surely! Almost done with all the egos ♡


	4. Jameson Jackson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The strange story of a suddenly appearing man, and a detective determined to figure him out.

Whenever Jameson was questioned about where he came from, it was always the same response. That he couldn't remember.

He never was quite able to put together that he just appeared. There was no snap into existence, he was more… eased, into it. He couldn't tell you the exact moment like Henrik or Jackie could. He was simply walking along the streets one day without a thought in mind. Walking amongst the crowd. He was just walking… and it wasn't until he pulled his eyes up from the worn sidewalk to glance up at the sky when it finally hit him.

He had no clue where he was. Or… who he was.

His eyes drifted over to the architecturally old, yet charming buildings around him. He paused for a moment to glance at his outfit. He himself was dressed differently than the people around him. A suit, tie… perhaps he was meant to be going somewhere. Before he could stop himself, he lifted his hand up to his chin as he began to think. He wasn't sure why he did it, it seemed to just be instinct.

A string of words came to mind, but as he attempted to say them, only a small breath came from his mouth. He was nearly tempted to try again when he remembered he couldn't… talk. Why had he forgotten that? That shouldn't be something he should have forgotten! He knows english fairly well but he simply forgot that he was mute? Did he know sign?

The fact he had to ask himself was odd enough. He did his best to sign a few words and after that, it came quite fluidly for him. It was definitely an experience, to say the least. An entire language returning to him almost immediately… it made him question how he could have possibly lost his memory to come to such a position. If he did lose his memory… wouldn't that mean all of it, including his ability to translate English or sign at all, be gone?

He was pulled away from his thoughts as an arm tapped his shoulder.

“Are you alright, sir?” A woman with a light British accent asked, watching as Jameson turned around. Jameson gave her a worried look and began trying to sign to her, yet she stopped him immediately, “Oh I'm sorry, I don't know sign…” She looked through her purse a bit, and sighed as she couldn't find what she was looking for.

“Well if you are lost and need to call someone, there's a police station just that way, they should be able to help you.” She pointed and Jameson made note of it. 

He quickly signed her a thank you out of habit and began to walk the way she had pointed. Perhaps he could find some answers there.

  
  
  


He wandered a bit, but after several minutes of looking around he could spot what looked to be a police station. As he arrived, he gave the building ahead a strange look. His head even tilted at the sight of the rectangular building.

It sure didn't look familiar… it seemed too… foreign? That certainly didn't sound like the right word, but it simply made him feel out of place. This felt like something new, something… from the future.

Or maybe he was just stuck in the past.

He slowly made his way up the stairs and into the office, glancing around at it all in wonder. The bright colored walls and shiny flooring. A typical office setting and yet it felt all very new and strange to him. Though he didn't want to keep the man waiting at the desk, so he hurried over and stopped there before he became to caught up in staring.

“Hello..-?” The man didn't get the chance to speak before Jameson began to sign to him.

{Do you know sign?} Jameson only had to take one look at the man’s expression and could already tell they didn't know a word he showed him.

“Hey, do you know sign language?” He whispered to the other man at the desk. The other worker just shook his head, and so the one Jameson was talking to began looking for a notepad.

“I know sign, what is the problem?”

They all look up at someone who had been walking out. He wasn't dressed like one of the workers at the desk, but more like an officer. He seemed to be walking out when he suddenly stopped at the mention of sign.

“Uh, it's okay officer, I'll just get him a notepad-”

“I can translate, I'll make this much quicker for all of us.” He offered hastily. Jameson was worried about him taking time out of his day, but eventually began to sign.

{I can hear. I am mute.} He explained immediately before continuing, {I have no memory of where I am or who I am. Can you help me?}

The officer nodded, “Do you have a name?”

{J-a-m-e-s-o-n J-a-c-k-s-o-n}

“Jameson Jackson… quite a name. You can call me Mr. Holds, I am a detective.” The man smiled, then turned to look at the others, “This man says he lost his memory and needs to be taken home.”

Jameson nodded in agreement. The man at the desk nodded in return, “Alright. Do you have a phone?”

Jameson tilted his head at the question. Were they asking if he had a wired phone where he lived? They were certainly not cheap, but he had no clue.

{I don't know.}

“Check your pockets.” The detective said, keeping his eye on him. His statement made Jameson even more confused.

{I am certain I can not fit a telephone in my pocket, sir.}

“Sure you can! Just check.” The detective said, becoming increasingly more impatient.

Jameson huffed and began checking all of his pockets. The only thing he seemed to have was an antique pocket watch with cracked glass covering the hands. It didn't seem to be working properly either.

“Hm… do you remember… anything?”

Jameson shook his head as he slipped his watch back into his vest pocket.

“Do you know where you are from?”

Jameson paused for a moment before signing, {I believe I am British.}

“... well, you are in England.”

{Oh. That was all I know.}

At that, the detective sighed and glanced back at the two sitting at the desk, “You two help him the best you can, I have to go for now. Jameson, if you do ever need my help, just give me a call.” The detective muttered, writing out a number on a notepad that had been on the desk before handing it to him, “Good afternoon, gentlemen.”

Jameson hardly was given a chance to respond as the man left the three of them there. Not another word. And from there, it only became more of a hassle to try and discover where Jameson came from, or who he was. Jameson was tempted to leave, and he partially wished he hadn’t come here in the first place.

  
  
  


—

  
  


Jameson had been there nearly the entire day, and most of it was just him sitting down and doodling on a piece of paper. People walked in and out, but it wasn’t until that detective they had met earlier finally came back that finally things began to happen again.

The detective looked over at Jameson, then back at the two at the desk, “Why is he still here?”

“Sorry sir, but there’s no record of him at all in the country and we-”

“And that doesn't mean you can keep him here for hours! What have you been doing? Helping everyone _but_ him? Christ, I'll help him myself.” The detective snapped towards the others before he sighed and walked over to Jameson, who looked up at him with surprise, “Come with me, I'll help you and we will have you in and out of here in no time.”

Jameson stood up and looked over at the others before following the detective out. His eyes squinted at the officer, this all seemed to be happening so fast… but at least it was interesting, so he just trailed behind.

“I'll figure out who you are and where you're from quicker than them, I can promise you that.”

—

At least that's what the detective had said more than three years ago. And at this point, Jameson simply followed him around since the detective made a promise. Besides, he was given a job to help him with his work. If that really was the call of the detective or not wasn't really disputed since the detective himself wasn't fully... sane, but maybe that's what made him a pretty decent detective. It got the job done, and that's really all the police in the area cared about. The detective’s character itself was something Jameson admired. He acted and talked like someone out of a storybook… perhaps he'd make a story out of it someday, when he got the chance.

As of being stuck with the detective, Jameson didn't mind. This was much more fun in his opinion than a boring job in retail of some kind. Though, he did have a reoccurring dream to become an actor, and he wasn't quite sure why. He often questioned his intrusive thoughts a lot, and couldn't never give a direct answer to any of them. He even discussed it with Holds, but he still couldn't figure out where Jameson came from. Who he was, who he wanted to be, and how he got like this. It was the one case the detective just couldn't seem to figure out.

The one thing he did figure out was that Jameson had a very apparent fear of _strings_. Especially when they were wrapped around his neck or wrists in some way, which the detective noticed he had deep grooves in his skin along both. Like strings were tied so tightly around his neck and wrists they had broken skin. On top of that, every time he saw a string or cord of some kind, he looked like he was remembering something horrific...

But when asked about it moments later after spacing out, he didn't remember a thing. As if it were just for a split second he was put through absolute hell before he immediately forgot what he had seen.

And that was as much as the detective knew about Jameson. His identity was still shrouded in mystery. His entire being was shrouded in mystery… every strange addition to the man being more and more strange and intriguing. Maybe that's what drew the detective towards him. He was _determined_ to find out where this man came from.

In the end, all they really knew was with a strange circumstance of events, Jameson and Detective Holds now shared a two bedroom apartment together.

The detective seemed far too busy with work most of the time than to actually help Jameson anyways, so he hadn't done much searching in the year that passed. But, he still occasionally tried to piece the anomaly together and always came up short.

Jameson on the other hand, had done plenty along the lines of being a detective’s assistant. Both for the money needed to survive and the experience of it. Jameson always seemed to catch little details that no one would notice, and some questioned if Jameson should be a detective over Holds. Though, Jameson politely refused and remained at his friend’s side.

  
  


“Her husband was murdered while she was out of the house.” Holds walked up to Jameson, who was looking up at the house as he leaned against the car. It was a small place, three bedrooms on one floor and a nicely kept yard with neighbors on both sides. Some of it was brick, some not. It was unfortunate that it would never be the same after this.

JJ looked away from the quiet neighborhood house to watch the detective, “Let's head inside and see what we are working with.”

Jameson nodded, following behind Holds into the small home, just to be met with a body on the floor of the living-room. The detective watched, walking around the livingroom a bit as Jameson didn't even hesitate to kneel down and get a better look.

The detective noticed that Jameson was always eerily composed around a dead body. Even for the first time, there wasn't a reaction from him in the slightest.

Perhaps it was a part of his character, but Jameson didn't seem to be phased by much regarding truly morbid things. It was always strings, for some odd reason. Strings, but never blood. Never death.

At first his nonchalant reaction concerned the detective, but maybe, again, that was simply a gift he was given. If you could call it that.

The detective looked around the room, and walked over to some cords lying out around the TV. They were poorly placed and not hidden in the slightest, which was why he nudged it with his foot to hide it behind the console, despite the fact the scene shouldn't be tampered with. He weighed his options and decided he'd rather move some wires rather than have his friend be stuck in a horrible trance again.

He finished tucking them away with his shoe before Jameson looked up.

{Slit throat from behind.}

“Yeah, the blood trail leads to the window.”

{And the TV.} Jameson pointed down at the blood on the carpet that was smeared towards the television.

“Yes well… that doesn't help us I'm afraid. I don't think someone could walk into a TV.” The detective playfully teased, but Jameson seemed to stop and think for a moment. For some reason, he wasn't so sure… but he didn't know why.

He took a closer look at the TV anyways as the detective walked out back, searching for any clues. Though there was a painfully obvious trail that led out the back and over the fence, so he already assumed that this was _not_ an experienced killer.

Jameson watched his pitch black reflection in the TV for a moment before reaching for the remote, turning the TV on.

What he got in return was static, and a loud pitched ringing as the TV screen glitched to a frightening degree. Immediately Jameson flinched and hit the power button again letting out a sigh of relief as the noise vanished, rubbing his ears as the detective rushed in.

“What was that??”

Jameson pointed at the TV. After a moment he picked the remote back up and looked over at the detective.

“Yeah, turn it on again for a second.”

Jameson let out a worried sigh before pressing the power button… but nothing happened. JJ gave the TV a confused look before trying to press the power button again, but it seemed like it wouldn't turn on.

“That's fucking weird… well, I found a trail out back, let's see where it leads.”

Jameson nodded before glancing back at the TV. Slowly he followed behind the detective, tearing his eyes away from the screen.

In every scenario the two of them talked about together and thought of, every combination of how this man died, the trail of blood leading to the broken TV just seemed out of place. There was just... something missing.

But they didn't let that stop them. They followed the trail, and even when there were no fingerprints, a shoe size was there to help. It seemed this kill was spontaneous, and random… but that never stopped the detective before.

Something was always off. Amiss, as he'd call it. Sometimes Jameson thought he was in some cheesy old movie at how the detective talked and dressed.

At the same time, it made him feel at home. Reminded him of a time he felt he belonged.

And so to Jameson’s surprise, it took the detective five days (and lots of coffee), going between houses and asking the most strange people for clues. A drunk Irishman, a noblewoman, even a gang leader apparently. All of which Jameson _wanted_ to question the detective about, but he kept quiet for now. He could always ask once this case was solved.

It wasn't until the fifth day when he loudly exclaimed from his room, “AHA. I GOT IT. JAMESON, GET YOUR COAT WE ARE LEAVING!”

Jameson was used to such short notice trips by now, and did exactly that.

  
  


But it wasn't until they had found the murderer and found him guilty after suspecting the house… when the story began to shift into something impossible.

They had both sat down with the man found guilty, and they hardly had time to speak when he tried to fling himself away from the table, “ITS _YOU_!” The suspect yelled, looking at Jameson with wide eyes. Jameson gave a worried glance at the detective before back at the suspect. The man’s fear looked so genuine… he looked terrified.

“Sir, calm down. This is my partner Jameson.” He gestured to him and JJ gave a small and tense wave, “He is mute.”

“Like HELL. HE FUCKING _LAUGHED_ AT ME. _USED_ ME.”

Once again the two looked at each other, and Jameson took this time to leave the room while the detective continued the interrogation. Jameson kept watch through the one sided glass as the detective remained.

“Why are you so afraid of my partner?”

“He’s a fucking _monster._ That _thing_ made me kill someone I don't even know! It's a **_DEMON_ **.”

“Hold on… you're trying to say the man who was with me at all times before and after the murder was responsible for this? Jameson has hardly left the apartment, and I can assure you, was likely accounted for during the same time this took place.” The detective squinted at the man’s silence, “You are trying to use any excuse to get out of this, aren't you.”

“N-no! I mean it! It… it used _strings._ They… look.” The man showed his wrists that were handcuffed to the table, and there were deep grooves that ran into his skin, “It toyed with me like… it used me I, I couldn't move… please…”

The detective looked at the strange marks on his wrist, and noticed the mad had a similar mark around his neck.

It reminded him of Jameson’s scars.

“... odd scars you have there, but that doesn't hide the fact you killed that man.”

“No… please! PLEASE believe me!”

“A confession could lower your sentence.”

“But it wasn't me… it wasn't…” The man across from the detective looked like he was ready to break down, and after a few more minutes of talking, he walked out to meet with Jameson that had been staring through the one way glass.

Jameson was rubbing at the same scars, ones that were on his wrist when the detective walked up.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Jameson paused, not looking up at him. He hesitated before signing, { I am sure it is a coincidence.}

“Is it?” The question made him stop. Everything about this case was strange… it reminded him of things he couldn't piece together. The _strings_ , the _scars_ , _the noise. The_ ** _glitching_** _._ ** _The_** **_laughter-_**

Jameson was pulled out of his trance as the detective spoke again, “I'm not saying you did this. I know you couldn't have. I mean the scars. The… strings.”

Jameson gave a worried glance at the word, beginning to fidget as he looked away.

“Even though he sounds crazy, there are too many oddly specific coincidences, don't you agree? This could help us figure out who you are. Maybe someone did this to you. We could _find_ them and help you remember where you came from.”

{If my past is tied to something such as this} Jameson glanced up from the ground to look the detective in the eyes, {Then maybe I don't want to remember.}

  
  


—

  
  


It had only been a bit more than a week since the case regarding the murder, in which, the murderer accused a demon had possessed him for his crimes. The case was still stuck in Jameson’s mind, even if it had been a quick and easy case. Murderer was careless, ran off towards his home, and left the weapon in his house by trying to just throw it away. Careless. Stupid. Simple.

But Jameson just felt like something was missing… there was a feeling in his gut that wouldn't let him go. It was the explanation.

The _strings, the_ ** _scars_** _,_ ** _the_** **_noise-_**

Jameson swiftly hung up his coat on the rack next to the door before hurrying inside. He knocked on the wall twice to let the detective know it was him before turning into the kitchen. His hands were trembling a bit as he pulled the things out of the bags he had brought in, trying to distract himself from the same words that repeated in his head. He did his best to keep it to himself, but nightmares had plagued him for days now. Ones he couldn't even remember after he woke up.

“Jameson! You're back! Good, I needed to see you.” Jameson let out a tired sigh as he set the groceries he had pulled out, back on the counter. He then turned to face the detective, expecting to be told about some crime or new case to solve and how it-

“I found out more about who you are.”

Well... this was new.

Jameson took a moment to stare at him with confusion, then walked over and stared down at the laptop the detective had open.

“Or well, I know who you're related to! Look at this.” He pressed play on the video and they were greeted with a _very_ loud introduction. He moused over the volume to turn it down before pointing in the top corner.

Jameson was skeptical at first, but detective was right. Besides the mustache, they did look exactly the same. He tapped the detective’s shoulder before signing.

{Where did you find this?}

“He's actually a really well known guy. Internet celebrity...” 

{Then how have people not recognized me?}

“Mustache really throws you off.” The detective chuckled as Jameson gave him an unimpressed stare, “... really! It does!”

Jameson let out a huff before looking back down at the video.

“This might be the guy that attacked _him_ too.” Holds hummed, watching the video further, “It would make sense, you have a twin, it seems.” He looked back up at Jameson as he let the video play.

{I don't think it is him either.}

“Why not?”

{He seems too kindhearted. He loves his job and would have no reason to kill.}

“Could be sadistic.”

{You think his fans wouldn't notice something like that?} The detective hummed to himself quietly, looking back at the screen before back at Jameson, {Could be triplets.}

“It could, and maybe he knows if there are.”

{I can go and investigate.}

The detective scoffed and began laughing, while Jameson gave him a confused look. After some laughter he looked back up at Jameson, “Think less about investigating and more about family! If you don't think it's him then just spend some time. Learn about who you are!”

{And if my family is murderers?} Jameson squinted, while the detective just laughed again.

“ _You_ were the one who said it probably isn't him, and if they are and you don't like it, report them and we will take care of it. If it was accidental, they had a reason, and you like the person… eh.”

{You'd overlook _murder_ for me and my family?}

“Can't say I haven't done it before.” He muttered, “It's not always black and white, sometimes there's a grey between shit. Especially when it comes to self defense… but again, it's up to you.”

{You have the strangest moral code.}

“Thank you!” The detective smirked before clicking off the video and scrolling around a bit, eventually landing on a video describing that he would be visiting PAX this year. The detective’s smile only grew wider, “And, looks like you're headed to America.

{Why?}

“Because we don't have an address or jurisdiction in Ireland.”

Jameson paused before signing, {What's America like?}

“Haven’t been, so let me know when you get there.” The detective said as he began booking a flight and hotel room for his friend.

Jameson let out an annoyed huff. After a moment he signed, {Thank you for this}

“Of course. You're a good friend… and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited to figure out the story behind you. The one case I just _couldn't_ figure out… it's about time you went and got some answers.”

Jameson smiled before signing, {Quite a mystery, aren't I?}


	5. Marvin the Magnificent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the story of a changed magician.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god this has 5,500 words I hope you enjoy!! Marvin needed a long explanation, he had a tragic backstory™

  
The same floating sensation, the same sense of weightlessness… before gravity suddenly weighed down upon his shoulders.

It caught the magician off guard to the point he stumbled backwards, and landed on his back with a loud thud that seemed to echo around him. His breathing was quick, and he looked around with fear at his new surroundings.

A forest.

Why was he in a forest? Why suddenly now? Why... couldn't he remember _anything?_

The magician stayed there for a moment, his eyes looking for anything out of the ordinary. He swallowed hard before letting out a heavy sigh. Slowly he pushed himself up, checking his surroundings one more time with a clearer head. No buildings, no road… there wasn't the sound of any people or cars. Just him and the forest. But where did _he_ come from? It felt like he appeared there. Just… teleported.

… why was that the first thing that came to his head? People can't teleport.

The magician was snapped out of his thoughts as he noticed something white out of the corner of his eyes, suddenly aware of something on his face. He reached a hand up to pat it. It was... a mask. It was surprisingly sturdy, and as he took it off and looked at it… he did feel a connection to it. Like it was a part of him… no matter how odd it was.

He slid the mask back on before looking around further, starting to walk around the forest.

As he walked, his black cape seemed to keep getting snagged on things, and eventually he pulled it off and dropped it over his shoulders as he walked instead. To anyone else, they likely would have tossed it. The cheap material really wasn't worth it, it's just… Marvin didn't have the heart to leave it behind. Leave anything of his behind. He didn't remember anything, and what he had on him now was _all_ he had.

Around half an hour later he had started to hear people, and slowly he walked out from behind the trees. The sudden sunlight made him wince as he moved out of the dense forest. He shivered a bit as he squinted at the sun setting. Thankfully it didn't set as he was in the forest… he didn't want to think about what would have happened if he never found anything or anyone.

Slowly he began stepping down into the village, and after a few strange looks from the people around him, remembered to slip off his mask and hold onto it. Still, he kept his mask close and clutched onto it like it was his lifeline. As he walked around, he looked for somewhere to stay, anywhere cheap.

Suddenly he was reminded he'd need money.

The magician quickly stuck his hand in his pockets, searching for anything useful. He let out a frustrated sigh as he managed to find nothing. No money, no nothing. He just appeared in the middle of the woods without a clue who he was or why he was there. With a weird cape and cat mask.

So he stood there, looking over the city that expanded further down the hill. The city itself was on the edge of a massive lake, with snow covered mountains in the far, foggy distance. Evergreen trees were scattered along the hills behind him, and bright green grass made its way down the mountain. The village itself was small but homely, with charming wood homes. It was beautiful, really… but it made Marvin wonder where, exactly, he was. It didn't look familiar at all. It didn't even feel familiar. It made him wonder… if he really was meant to be here.

The locals there all eyed him suspiciously as he walked by. He didn't blame them… the blue button up shirt and jeans weren't the only things that threw them off, it was the mask and cape draped over his shoulders as well. He did his best to avoid them and walked directly towards what he assumed was an inn. His eyes stared up at the sign before him and widened.

It was in another language, one he _didn't_ know. **Fuck.**

After internally panicking for a moment, he slipped inside and glanced around at everyone there. They all sat at their own tables, and Marvin assumed that this must be a small coffee shop or cafe of some kind as well.

As he walked up to the counter, the woman smiled, “Hello! What would you like?”

Marvin paused at that. He had expected another language, but apparently not? Perhaps the name was just something fancy?

“I uh… I just need directions. Sorry. Do you know where the nearest hospital is?”

“Hospital? That is in the next town over.” She said, and Marvin took note of her faint accent, “But we have a clinic down the road.”

“Okay… uhm, thank you very much.” Marvin said before turning and hurrying out. Perhaps they could tell him something… _anything._

—

To Marvin’s disappointment, they couldn't. Marvin was completely healthy and despite trying his best to tell them he couldn't remember anything, it just seemed no one believed him.

Rather than let that stop him, he took up a hobby. He had become interested in street magic recently, and tried his best to replicate some tricks for money. He had already applied for a job and was fired… apparently machinery hates him. At least it was usually only when he's feeling stressed things went wrong, because just a few days into customers at a retail store so many things had happened.

The freezers seemed to work a little too well when Marvin was ever annoyed, almost freezing the place over. The lights flickered every time Marvin raised his voice. And what got him fired was the moment he yelled at a customer and lost his temper, which ironically a power surge seemed to shut down everything in the store. All of his jobs he seemed to have followed this. _Consistently._

Marvin tried his best to convince himself in the few weeks there that they were coincidences. It was all coincidence… but now it is becoming a pattern. Even his thoughts revolved around the idea of _magic._

But the magic he was thinking of wasn't real, so… he had to be thinking about street magic, right?

Well, already he was dreading this idea. Street magic was boring, and a part of him felt it was wrong, but he tried it anyway. So he decided to test it on some people at the coffee shop first, just to see if it would work. He dreaded the idea of having to talk to other people, but he didn't have much of a choice. He could never make a genuine guess if he kept trying to practice by himself. The magician always had a habit of peeking.

He eyed everyone there nervously, especially the baristas who were glaring at him. After his last job there, things didn't seem to go so well for him… considering the last time he tried to work the machine, the place nearly caught on fire. He was pretty sure the people of the village had a nickname for him at this point, but he was never aware or around others enough to figure out what it was.

It just seemed like people had a knack for not liking him at this point.

  
  


“Hi there! I've… I’ve been trying to work on some magic tricks, and I was wondering if you could help me out a bit!” He kept up a warm smile, and part of him was regretting doing this… but he didn't really have any friends to ask, so a stranger was his only option.

“Oh… sure.” The older man he had asked turned in his chair to face him, looking up at him with a smile to match.

Marvin let out a sigh of relief and fanned out his deck of cards, “Pick a card!”

The man raised a brow before slipping one out to look at.

“Memorize it, and put it back in the deck.”

“Rough beginnings, huh?”

“Shut up...” Marvin smiled as the man let out a playful laugh, slipping his card back into the deck.

Marvin began to shuffle it, and smiled, “I'm guessing… you had a diamond…”

“Mhm…”

“It was…” Marvin pulled out a card, showing it to him, “The king of diamonds!”

“It was a Jack of diamonds.” The man smirked to which Marvin let out a frustrated sigh.

“Shit-” He threw the card down angrily and watched as it suddenly burst into flames on the ground next to him. The magician let out a squeak before quickly stomping the flame out, hoping no one else had noticed.

“Holy shit, that was some impressive magic-”

“Marvin, get out of our shop before you set this fucking place on fire! AGAIN!”

“Sorry!”

  
  


—

  
  


Marvin was sitting in his room, staring at an unlit candle. His arms were resting against the desk and he let out a breathy sigh as he considered every… _coincidence_ , he had been through in the past week. And, how the card he had thrown suddenly burst into flames.

“Hmmm…” He tilted his head at it, squinting. He tried snapping his fingers, looking at the candle expectantly. Nothing happened. He moved on to trying to focus on the candle. _Light itttt… fire!_

…but nothing happened and he let out a sigh.

He glanced around the room, then back at the candle and tried using his fingers. Gently tapping on the wick, and waiting. Nothing happened. How could he set a random card in his hand on fire and not this? Did he have magic at all?

His hand that had been holding his cheek moved, and he let his head hit his desk with a thud, “So… stupid. Ugh, why does this shit happen to me??” He grumbled, sitting back up with an angry look and red forehead.

“I can't get a job because everything goes wrong. People don't fucking like me, what am I doing wrong?!” He slammed his fists down onto the table and stood up, “What can I do right-” as he pulled his hands away from the desk and opened them, flames sprouted from his palms. The magician let out a loud yelp, trying to wave his hands to get rid of the fire, but it wouldn't go out.

… but it wasn't hurting him either.

His eyes opened up again and he stared down at the flames he was conjuring.

He… he _did_ have magic.

  
  


—

  
  


In the short time he discovered he had magic, the more he figured out how it worked. It was his temper that drove it. He tried his best to keep a lid on his temper and finally got a job once again. It didn't pay much, but it kept him alive and didn't have to deal with people. Delivery was all about getting the shit to the place, and then leaving. Simple and easy.

But it didn't last long, once again. But not because of an accident.

One day he was walking home from work. The sun was ready to set which made Marvin quicken his pace. He tugged at his jacket as the air grew colder… but before he could make it home, someone walked up beside him. It was safe to say Marvin felt at least a little threatened… considering the people in this small town didn't like him much.

When he turned to look at who it was, his eyes widened to see someone wearing a black cloak.

“Who-?”

“Hello Marvin. I'm here to recruit you.”

The magician squinted at them. Hearing his name didn't surprise him much considering his bad reputation… but recruitment?

He eyed the person up and down before asking, “Is this for a cult? I don't really want to be a part of a cult.”

“If you believe people training their abilities as sorcerers is a cult, then yes.”

“Sorcerer… then what's up with the cloak?”

“I'm not here to discuss that.” Marvin let out a scoff as they continued.

“I can't say much unless you plan on applying. Visit this address tomorrow and we will explain further.” They said, handing him a card with an address written on it.

The cloak flowed behind them as they turned and began to walk down the empty street. Marvin was given no further answer by them, but he _craved_ the knowledge he could sense they had. They knew about magic… _real_ magic.

So the next day, he didn't hesitate in seeking out the address.

What he didn't expect to be led to, was a an old church.

—

  
  


Years with training in magic certainly does things to you. Marvin knew that well, and he had only been there for two and a half.

That thirst for knowledge brought him into a group, some would call a cult, that was based within a church. He was taught of their practices, and how there were plenty of places around the world that had sanctuaries for people that studied true magic. One specifically in England was open to any spellcasters, though most people took it as a joke of some kind… even when it was very real, and true sorcerers resided there to wait for more to arrive. But in some places, magicians sought out others.

With Marvin’s proceeding reputation, they spotted him fairly quickly… and he was brought into the Magic Circle.

“Born sorcerers are powerful, and need to train themselves to avoid accidents.”

Marvin was taught that upon the first day, and discovered he had an especially strong talent with fire… which desperately needed to be controlled. Though that never stopped him from branching out to other elements.

People teased him about being a hothead most of the time. Some to his face, to which Marvin’s response varied on how good of a day he was having. From a glare, to having their clothes set on fire.

It was safe to say Marvin didn't have many friends. His anger issues were a driving factor, and he drove himself into his work. He loved magic. It made him happy, and he felt like he belonged there. Learning more and more about the craft was his passion, and he made no room for anyone else in his life because of it.

But he didn't care.

His studies were going well. He had picked out more books from the library, running a finger along the spines as he read it before pulling them out. He slipped his fingers underneath the bottom book before lifting them off the table. He was ready to leave when he overheard whispering in the halls.

“We need to speak in privacy. They might still be around.”

“Yes sir.”

It wasn't much, but just that piqued the cat’s interest. He always loved some drama, even if he didn't know who the people were half the time.

So, he gently set the books back down on the table beside him, making note to pick them up after as he followed the footsteps down the halls.

It wasn't long before they turned into a room, and the magician quietly made his way to the door. It was the head office. Perfect, he could make up an excuse as to why he was here, just in case someone walking down the hall caught him listening in.

He pulled out a small notebook from his pocket and began reading his notes inside of it as he listened, trying to come up with an excuse in the meantime.

“Have you found anything?”

“No sir… nothing on them. They are still a complete mystery.”

Now this was some drama Marvin wanted to listen to… if only he could actually remember names well enough to spill it. He could remember full incantations without a hitch, but names he never seemed to catch onto.

“How? It has been years! You have searched all over, yes?”

“There's no record of Marvin… but there are records of others.”

Marvin glanced up from his writing to look at the door.

“Others?”

“Yes. I have found three in Europe.”

“Including Marvin?”

“Not including Marvin… and I have yet to receive word from any of our people in American determining if there are more.”

“Are they all related?”

“They seem to look the same but their personalities are all different, sir. There's no way of determining where they came from… they all suddenly appeared around two and a half years ago. That is all we know.”

Marvin slowly began to shuffle away. This… wasn't what he expected to hear. He was just hoping for the usual drama that he'd enjoy rather than actually talking with anyone.

Now he was being told his existence was a mystery and there were at _least_ three others just like him? 

The magician decided not to stick around any longer. He already couldn't think of an excuse, and would rather just hole himself up in his room and forget this ever happened. The magician turned and rushed down the hall, making sure to grab the books he had left on the table in the library before quickly heading to his room in silence. People in the hall gave him funny glances, but he just avoided them and said nothing. He turned on the light in his room and sat at his desk, pulling out a new spellbook as he tried his best to ignore what he had heard.

  
  


But that crave for knowledge began to eat him up hours later. Especially since his phone decided to not work suddenly and he was left reading in silence.

He was reading a small spellbook, and brushed over a spell that involved the crystal ball. One that would awaken any deep memories from years prior. Normally this would mean childhood… but it made Marvin wonder what would happen if he used it. He didn't have a childhood… so what would he see?

His eyes flicked up to the crystal ball in front of him, then back down at the page.

_This could help him figure out where he came from… and it wasn't a dangerous spell at all._

He let out a loud sigh before setting the book aside and pulling the crystal ball forward on his desk. His eyes drifted over the short incantation, and within seconds he had memorized it. He quickly rubbed his hands together before looking back at the crystal ball laying before him.

“ _Videre volo praeterita..._ ”

His eyes began to glow a vibrant green, and slowly he reached his hand out to place upon the crystal ball.

At first touch, he was given small visions of himself practicing magic. Of people teasing him for his upbringing and strange practices, and receiving the brunt of his attacks for it. It made Marvin feel… disappointed. He expected more from this, but he also expected more from himself in a way.

But things began to change, and he saw when he first arrived… but it flashed. It flashed between others.

Him in the forest. One in a hospital. One at a party. One on a skyscraper. One in central London. And the last one… was fuzzy and unfocused, but he could hear white noise.

But Marvin refused to stop there. There had to be more… there had to.

And there was, but it was so quick. It was brief seconds of something he had never seen before. Reflections. Shattering. Falling.

It was a glimpse of a plane of existence he had never seen. Something that made no sense, but it was so… strangely beautiful. It was all glass, and mirrors… dark, but a vibrant green glow bordered on the edges of these tears in reality… it was just so difficult to put into words. It looked completely alien… otherworldly even. Faintly, he could hear echoed laughter sounding from inside.

So when he was thrown out of his vision, and the crystal ball refused to let him back… he craved that knowledge once more. He wanted it desperately… and a small chuckle escaped from his throat as he searched through his books.

  
  


—

  
  


“Marvin?”

  
  


“I'm busy.” Marvin ignored the person knocking at his door. He didn't know them, and he didn't care about why they were calling for him. He was getting closer to discovering how to find that strange… dimension, he had seen. Or at least he knew how to come into contact with it. See it, even for a second.

It was complex, and wreckless… and possibly dangerous… but ever since those visions he was obsessed.

More so… than usual… and it hadn't fully hit Marvin until-

“Marvin, you've been in there for two days straight. We know you like to be left alone, but when will you come eat? When have you slept?”

Marvin stopped for a moment, looking at his notes. He… he hadn't left to do anything. Not eat at least… and the only time he had slept was for a few hours at his desk. His stomach growled at the realization as well… but he had to figure this out. The _mirrors_ , the _visions_ , _the noise_ **_..._ **

Marvin scratched at his neck a bit, but he knew he couldn't stay in there forever. So hesitantly, he tore himself away from his work and walked out, still wearing his mask he had put on as a comfort. At this point he refused to take it off, no matter the comments it would attract from other people.

As he walked down the halls, his tiredness was catching up on him. He walked slow, his hood covering up his hair as he tried his best to keep his balance. Other people walked by in their cloaks. Marvin didn't bother paying attention to what they looked like. The mirrors… the _visions…_ the _noise… the glitching_ . **_The laughter_ **. A ringing picked up in his ears, and he winced… but he managed to barely hear one thing.

“...weird fuckin’ cat mask… such a bitch.”

Marvin stopped in the hall, standing tall as he turned to face them, “... what did you say.”

He finally got a glance, seeing they were around the same age as college students. The one guy who had talked about him spoke up, “I said your cat mask is stupid. Looks like a child drew on it.”

“Well now, you should never judge a book by their cover. That could get you ki͉lled͎.͉”

“Or maybe you could take the stupid mask off like you always do. You're making yourself look bad.”

“That's not n̍ice.̛.̓.͞” Giggles escaped from his throat, but he wasn't sure where they came from… why was he laughing? Actually, why was he confronting anyone at all? He hates making a scene-

“What are you laughing at?”

“If you think it is wise to insult me… and believe you will live through the consequences, **_then so be it_ **.”

The three stared at him in horror as Marvin moved his hand out from under his cape, each hand bursting into large flames as his eyes glowed red.

Thankfully he didn't have to do anything as the three ran off in cowardice. It made Marvin smile… he could teach them all a lesson… after all the teasing and harassment he was given over something so small and stupid as where he came from, and what he wore.

Maybe he would in due time… but for now he needed something to eat.

—

“Marvin?”

“Leave me the **_fuçḳ͊_ ** alone.”

Marvin listened as the footsteps leaded away down the hall.

He had done it again… days researching and hardly leaving his room. This was bringing him attention he didn't want, but he didn't care. He needed to figure this out. He needed to… to get _rid_ of the visions… the _noise…_ and please, please get rid of the _laughter_ . _Anything_ but the laughter… it was driving him _insane_.

Slowly he tried to push himself away from his desk in an attempt to fight it. He had thought about telling the others, but kept forgetting soon after. All he remembered was the spell… the spell to make it stop. The spell he needed.

And he knew this was because of the visions… he knew it was no matter how impossible that should have been. He was only supposed to have glances of a past… nothing should have gotten through that. His past was his own… it was his own memories… so why..?

He pressed his palms to his face before pushing them up into his hair with a heavy sigh. His heartbeat… he could hear his heartbeat racing in the eerie silence.

No… no something wasn't right. He was… he… he had to be cursed. Something _must've…_

The laughter echoed through his head, and he forced himself back up to figure out this spell.

Even if it would be the death of him.

  
  


—

  
  


At last. A week later from his visions, he had discovered how to peer into this world again. He slammed his book shut and sighed happily, thinking of _freedom…_ from the visions… the noise… the laughter.

His lips curled up into a smile as he grabbed everything necessary, and snuck out of his room to the sorcerer’s altar. He was thankful it was the dead of night so that hardly anyone would spot him wandering the dark halls.

He lit a flame in his hand as he carried everything in his satchel, then began to rush faster at the sound of echoing laughter coming from behind him, running towards the stairs that led up into the chapel.

  
  
  


And that was all he remembered. He must've set everything up at the altar, but he didn't remember… anything. Nothing cohesive at least, just flashes of that same… dimension… and _something_ coming through it. Something _crawling_ through it. Other than that, his memory of it all was blank.

  
  
  


But when he came to his senses… he scrunched up his nose as an awful smell became ever apparent. It smelled metallic… like blood, but he could also smell something burning… like burning meat.

He blinked once… then again… and his eyes widened as he stared down at what laid before him.

Sorcerers… at least twenty laid dead before him. Some were bleeding out, and others were burnt alive. Some he even recognized.

No… no no… this wasn't supposed to happen… no but… but the… the voice…

He waited, his eyes welling up with tearing up at the sight. His eyes then traveled down to his clothes soaked with blood, and a knife he never remembered having.

Immediately he let the bloody knife fall to the ground with a clang, his hands trembling as he looked around nervously… for something, _anything…_ there had to be a reason. _What_ did this… _who…_

But nothing was there. 

His breathing stuttered as he panicked, looking back down at the bodies before turning and rushing back through the door, down the stairs and through the hall.

More would come for him. He’d never be trusted again, even if what had happened wasn't his doing. They’d never believe him. Especially about a harmless little spell leading to a massacre.

He suddenly stopped in the hallway to look up at the library, glancing at all the books he had yet to learn from. His eyes teared up again as he rushed off towards his room.

He grabbed what he could, and left without a trace.

  
  


—

  
  


Marvin let out a loud sigh as he looked around the bar from his seat. It had been more than a month since it happened… but a part of him was glad it did.

Not the deaths. Every part of him regretted that. If he could bring them back… bring them all back without consequences for himself and the soul, he would. But he couldn't. They would be broken, undead, and Marvin would reap the consequences of that. So, he did his best to move past it, because whatever killed them wasn't him. There was something possessing him, and he was determined to find it and destroy it. 

But nothing had shown up. Not a single thing for weeks. He tried desperately to find it, it had an energy he could trace, and yet it kept disappearing. There was a spark of it he could sense. It wasn't nearby in the slightest, but it popped up before disappearing again.

He decided staying in Europe was a horrible idea considering he was now a wanted criminal, so he went to America. Did he do it legally? Absolutely not, but he did with a little bit of magic on his side. 

When he was there even sensed some of the same demonic energy nearby, but every time he thought he was getting closer, it vanished again. Long last, the magician settled upon _when_ it showed its face, he would get justice for those who died. There was no use chasing after something and wearing yourself down only to be weak for the real fight.

So in that time he had to himself when he wasn't chasing demons… Marvin felt the need to change. He needed something new. A new outlook, because being the one curled up silent in the corner of a library didn't suit him anymore. Seeing what he had been like made him want to change, because he didn't want to be a bitter, angry person who kept away from everyone. He wasn't happy with himself, with how lonely he felt… and the people searching for him expected someone like that. A loner who dressed in black and talked with no one. They probably had his name and face though but he didn't care, because they'd be faced with someone a lot different than they had expected.

Marvin wanted to be different. He wanted to be confident, and fearless.

  
  


Marvin was cut from his thoughts as a hand brushed against his shoulder. A smile spread across his face as he waved at the man who walked past him, and was hit with a wonderful reminder about how he wasn't stuck in a stuffy old room anymore. That might suit other people, he had nothing against those that did. Some days he even preferred a night in with a nice book, but damn... did he love the colorful lights and dancers so much more than that old crypt.

He curled some of his long hair around his finger, eyeing the men on stage with a cocky grin. He kicked a heel up and rested it on his leg with a smirk, tugging a bit at the collar of his crop top with one hand. His other hand he leaned against, tapping a nail against his cat mask as he watched them spin.

“What Marvin, are you takin’ a break on me?” The barista called. Marvin couldn't remember her name to save his life, but she was the one who ran the place, and hired him. He was thankful for how easygoing she was, and smiled as he tilted his head to the side to look at her.

“Aw, want me to steal the show that badly~? Besides… I'm enjoying the view.” He teased, taking another sip of his margarita before looking over to check his phone, “And these heels are killing me, should've worn the smaller ones today..."

As he scrolled through Instagram, something caught his eye on the discovery tab. He tapped on the photo and squinted at it with a grin, reading the caption below it, “Well… this is a surprise. One of my copies.” The magician muttered.

He tapped on the account and scrolled through, landing on his newest photo that had only been posted minutes ago. It was about the days he would be headed to Manhattan. Marvin found the timing very coincidental… but at this point he had too many drinks to fully question it. 

What he did know was that Jack was coming to America… and he was going to visit him. It was about time he met up with one of the others, even if he didn't really know much about them at all.

“Hey darling~?”

“We all know you call me that because you can't remember my name, Marvin.” The lady at the bar teased. Before Marvin could answer, she stopped to look over as another employee walked up and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She whispered something in her ear and the barista smirked, “Can't wait. See you later babe.”

“You're _so_ gay.”

“I am **_so_** gay.” She repeated in agreement as she eyed her girlfriend walking away with a smirk.

Marvin chuckled, looking back at his phone as he started to book a plane ticket, “Well anyways, I'm gonna be taking a little vacation soon! Might not be back for a few days, might not be back for a week, we will see how it goes.”

“I'll clock you out for two weeks, with your abundance of unused vacation days.”

“Hey!” The lady at the bar laughed and he chuckled with her.

“Just have fun, you've been working nonstop.”

“Aw, how sweet~” Marvin batted his lashes with a hand on his heart, “You care about me~!”

She smirked playfully, “Go crack a nail.” 

“Rude!”


	6. Jack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a story where all the pieces come together.

  
“Yes, yes I'll be fine. You two treat me like a child…” Henrik said with a quiet chuckle, muttering into the phone. He tucked it between his head and shoulder as he checked his passport again. Everything seemed in place… He then set the phone down on his lap as he continued to check his suitcase. He could barely make out what Suzi was saying but he could tell she was probably lecturing him about something. Drink more water than coffee, something along those lines probably.

“... Mhm. Yes I know.” Henrik began checking his pockets for his wallet, ticket… all there. He picked up the phone again and began talking normally, “Don't vorry. It vill be a short trip. I'll be back soon. Mhm. Yes, take care. Bye Suzi.” He hung up at that with a sigh, slipping his phone away into his pocket.

After a moment, he checked his watch once more to notice it was two minutes until it was time to board. His eyes wandered around the surprisingly crowded airport. There were some people getting up to get snacks, some sitting looking at their phone, some were boarding… most of them had someone to travel with. Some didn't, which Henrik found a nice comfort in.

He continued to glance around, too jittery to take out his phone. He was too nervous, too excited. His foot was already bouncing against the floor as he waited for his plane to be called.

He'd never traveled by plane before. Let alone, travelled by himself…  _ and now he was going to a new country? _

_ This would be a new experience. _

Jameson thought to himself as he leaned against the plane window. The plane was just getting ready to take off. He made sure to communicate with the stranger that had sat next to him, a middle aged man. He was traveling with family, mother and daughter, and decided to take the extra seat. Though he was very kind and understanding about Jameson’s inability to speak, and didn't mind if Jameson had to tap his shoulder to get his attention if he needed to use the restroom.

Still, Jameson missed the detective. He would always be able to translate for him if necessary, but now he had to go alone.

But this was good for him, and Mr.Holds had work that needed to be done, so it worked out.

He could figure out if this Jack was behind anything that had to do with the murder… no matter how unlikely it may seem. Something just wasn't right about it. The strings, the same face… and the nightmares that followed.

But maybe, the case was a coincidence. The man was trying to find a way out of being blamed. It was fine.

_ Maybe I'll find out more about myself instead. More about who I am. _

Jackie sighed at the thought. He had finished stuffing his Spider-Man suit in his backpack when Adam suddenly peeked in his room.

“What's all this? You're up early.”

Jackie smirked at him before looking back at the backpack, “Day trip! I'll be back by tomorrow.” He zipped it up, slinging it over his shoulder. The hero peeked around the room to make sure he had everything. He had his charger, phone, laptop, Spider-Man suit, he was wearing his normal suit under the clothes… he had everything. Nothing was left behind for Adam to find and discover his identity, and everything to work on the road.

“Day trip where?”

“I'm headed to PAX! Calling a couple cabs to get there.”

Adam’s eyes widened, “That's like three, four hours away-”

“I'll be fine! Relax, I will either be back by really late, or tomorrow morning.” Jackie honestly hoped he could crash with Jack, but that was  _ very  _ optimistic thinking.

“Alright… be safe.”

“‘Course man!” Jackie rushed out the door and waved to him, “See ya later!”

Adam gave a small wave back followed by a smile as Jackie ran out the door, a wide grin on his face.

_ I get to finally meet my family, or clone, or whoever they are. Maybe they can give me answers about my powers. _

Marvin’s eyes lit up at the thought and he smiled. He hoped he could… maybe he would also be a spellcaster of some kind. Maybe he knew about the AIMC. Maybe he was a part of it. Would Jack turn him in? Hopefully not… maybe he would listen.

Looking back down at his hands, Marvin remembered to keep putting up his clothes. He slid his shirt away in the drawer. He didn't pick a big apartment all for himself for nothing, he was enjoying his time here at least.

He shut the drawer with his hip before walking back out of his bedroom, admiring his view from the nineteenth floor. It worked out wonderfully, a nice little vacation and he'd learn more about himself in the process. Grabbing the remote, he began switching through the channels, tapping against the table beside him with his acrylics.

The television seemed to glitch for a moment, making Marvin sigh. Of course his powers would act up… he has to calm down. Stop being nervous…

His eyes drifted back to his bag, and after a moment he slipped out a spellbook, starting to read through it to try and relax. It was fine, meeting Jack would be fine. He rested one leg on top of the other as he leaned back against the couch.

_ … or maybe he doesn't know anything. _

Chase was rushing out of the house when the thought hit him, hurrying to shove things into his bag. Cursing himself for sleeping in, and slammed it shut. He hadn't even planned how long he was staying… shit, he might not even make the flight.

Quickly he glanced around, making sure his phone was charged, his ticket was on there. Board in five minutes? Fuck, the airport was thirty minutes away.

He quickly pulled his suitcase along, bumping it along every edge until he made it out the door. His nerves were already getting to him as he panicked in locking his door behind him, fumbling with his keys before finally pushing it in and locking the door. A worried sigh escaped his lips. In all honesty, if he was going to make the flight he needed to be there a while ago. He needed to be there thirty minutes beforehand, not  _ struggling  _ to make it. He looked over at his car, a frown on his lips.

_ This was pointless… I won't make it in time. _

A sigh escaped Chase’s lips, eventually taking a second to rub his eyes to try and get rid of his sleepiness.

If he really wanted to go to New York, he should have been in the airport  _ now _ .

… suddenly he heard talking. Laughter. Footsteps around him. The sounds echoed too, like he was in a large room of some kind. When he opened his eyes, they widened at the surprise that… he was standing in the airport.

The airport he thought he wasn't going to make it to.

His eyes travelled back and forth. He blinked again… and again. He turned around, looking around at everyone who… apparently didn't see, or didn't care. All the people around him were all busy on their phones anyways. For a second he thought he was hallucinating, dreaming… but pinching himself in the arm confirmed he wasn't. He could see everything around him, he brushed hand against the cold wall to make sure he could feel it.

And he could smell coffee from a coffee shop nearby, followed by a smell of pretzels. A few more seconds of looking around his surroundings, dumbfounded, before he suddenly remembered.

_ Right. His flight. _

He quickly grabbed his phone, checking the time and… it was the same time as he had walked out of the house. But he was  _ just _ at his car then… and…

Well, he was here now… and he was boarding in just a few minutes. Maybe it was a miracle in disguise, he was just remembering earlier. Probably just forgot. Chase didn't hesitate trying to rush down the hall, searching for his flight. But it was still at the back of his mind… eating away at him.

_ That… was odd. _

Jameson could have sworn he heard the stranger next to him talking… but when questioned, the man assured he hadn't said a work. Maybe it was just Jameson's imagination. He must be tired, dreaming it up. That's usually what it was… always hearing things. Silly him.

_ It's all in his head. _

Henrik had felt his passport in his hand as he picked it up, and yet it was now on the ground. It didn't slip at all. The doctor held it firm and yet now he was bending over to pick it up. He always was a bit clumsy when he was nervous he supposed… never when he was focused, thankfully. A clumsy surgeon was never a good thing, so he would have to work on this when he returned. 

The doctor was sure to quickly apologize to the woman behind the desk for taking up her time and handed it back to her.

_ It's fine. _

Jackie desperately wanted to fly there, staring out the car window. But no… he had to be patient, letting out a huff.

He couldn't out himself like that, he would be fine when he got there. So he leaned back in his seat, let his eyes rest before shutting completely. He'd have to hop around cars, but it would get him there eventually.

_ In time. _

Marvin’s mind wandered to the being he was hunting. He wasn't sure why… but he felt like he was getting closer…

His eyes darted up at the thought.

Was he getting closer? Was Jack who he was looking for?

His brows furrowed as he looked back down at his book. No, that can't be right… can it? Jack…

Maybe it was. There's only one way to find out... he could handle it if things went wrong again.

_ It will be okay. _

Jack took a deep sigh, mentally preparing himself for what was to come. His bright blue eyes practically sparkled at the thought of meeting all new people who enjoyed his stuff! It was exciting! This was what he was waiting for… and he could finally meet the people that supported him from the ground up. Three, almost four full years.

He wasn't sure what to do now… standing in his empty hotel room. His arms were still swinging happily at the thought of tomorrow. It made him wonder if he was even going to be able to  _ sleep  _ tonight, he was so excited.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack caught a familiar silhouette moving in the glass window. Instinctively he turned to look behind him to find what the window was reflecting… but nothing was there. His room was empty, he was the only one there… but Jack doubted that for some odd reason. He could sense it. Something was wrong.

He glanced back at the window, and as expected, it was gone. Normally he'd shrug it off. Say he was tired, or maybe it was a bird in the window.

He would, if the thing hadn't been showing up repeatedly. Now this strange silhouette was becoming a recurrence. Like something was haunting him. But Jack breathed. In… out. Calm down.

_ That was odd… but it's all in my head. It's fine. In time, it'll be okay. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_Ć͎ō̠͙̅m͖̑̑͢ë̠̺̊ b̲̉aĉ̡̀͟k̲͇͑̌ ť̠̬̕o͎̎ me͙̺͒́.̽ͅ_ **

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but an informative one <3


	8. Rude Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henrik finally arrives, and passes out until the next morning.

Henrik took a deep breath at finally being on solid ground. Thank _god._ If he had to spend one more hour in that plane he probably would have been sick. He was just starting to understand that he might have some form of motion sickness… but thankfully he only had to do it one more time, and he was done. Just a trip back to Germany, and then he was finished. No more planes or long rides. He'd be staying at the hospital _indefinitely_ after that.

He pulled his suitcase off the conveyor before turning and starting to walk down the halls. People passed by, most on their phone. Hopefully nobody would recognize-

“Jacksepticeye??”

Hm... no. No he was just walking in from a flight, headed towards the very event his doppelgänger was headed towards, nothing but glasses and an accent separated him and his lookalike. No, it would never be that easy.

“I am afraid you have me confused vith someone else.” Henrik assured, his heavy German accent catching the two both off guard, “But I do plan on meeting him.”

“Woah… you look exactly alike!”

“I get zhat a lot.” Henrik gave a gentle smile to the two before he pulled up his scarf to hide his face better. As he turned to walk away, he waved towards them before hurrying off. He kept the scarf up as he walked, glancing around the place at others without scarves at all. Winter may have been a couple months behind them, but he could always argue that it was chilly. It's not that suspicious, surely? It would be fine.

But if already one person recognized him, only minutes off his flight, how was he supposed to get into the event in the first place?

Maybe he could get away with wearing a scarf in there too. It must be cold after all. Most places like that were constantly freezing. If someone happened to recognize him… well...

He'd think about that later.

His trip to his room was fairly quick. Called a cab, and made it inside the building without a fuss. Grabbed the keys, brought the suitcase up, and closed the door behind him with a sigh. As he looked down from the window in his room, it wasn't hard to tell how _incredibly_ crowded it was around the area. But thankfully he wasn't going to be there for all the days of that event, just one, which was tomorrow. Tomorrow, Jack would be there, signing papers, and… whatever else seemed to happen at these events. Henrik wasn't sure, he just wanted answers… and tomorrow felt like the right day.

He tossed his scarf aside, rolling his suitcase into the bedroom. Not a second later he flopped down onto the bed, resting his head on the pillow. It was soft... so soft... and...

  
  
  


**8:30AM.**

The alarm blared in Henrik's ear, followed by a loud groan that escaped from his mouth. He had set an alarm on his phone in case he tried to sleep in... and well, now he was starting to regret it. The morning had sure come quick. That plane ride must've took its toll on him.

His hand reached over to smack his alarm, only for his arm to completely miss the table and nearly dragged him down with it. He let out a gasp of surprise as he jolted awake, clutching onto his sheets to keep him from falling.

He squinted, making sure to look at where he was aiming… but it didn't feel like he was positioning any different when he hit the off button. Next he slipped on his glasses and… he really, really needed some coffee. He would _kill_ for some good coffee.

So he slipped on his clothes, getting ready for the day ahead. A blue shirt, black pants, and white trench coat. If Suzi and Jeff were here, they'd probably laugh at how much of a doctor he looked like, even in casual clothes… but he liked how it looked. It made him feel complete. It _was_ funny though, he did admit. He wasn't even a real doctor yet.

A sigh escaped his lips as he looked around his room. Silently he cursed himself for still craving coffee… not because it was difficult to get, just because right now there would be… _so_ many people mistaking him for the Youtuber. He could have just gotten coffee from the hotel he was staying in but it was _never_ as good. He'd have to go to a coffee shop for the _good_ coffee. And damn, did he want some good coffee.

… he'd risk it.

  
  


_Risking it was a horrible idea._

He thought as he gave a small smile and wave to the _fifth_ person to mistake him for Jack. Not even fifth, the fifth group was more like it. This was getting tiring, having to explain himself and try to convince them best he could that he was _not_ Jack. The _yes, I know I look exactly like him. Sorry but I'm not him. Hope you find him though_. Occasionally they asked for pictures anyways, but Henrik politely refused. Some people decided to take photos of him out of the corner of his eye anyways. It was annoying and disrespectful… but he didn't want to make any more of a scene.

Still, he was here now. 

“Henrik?”

The doctor glanced up immediately at his name, standing up from his seat.   
_It was a relief hearing his own name for once._

He didn't waste any time walking over to grab his freshly brewed coffee. He swirled it around in the cup a bit before taking a sip with a warm smile to follow. Maybe… it was kind of worth the risk.

He turned and began walking out of the coffee shop, tugging his scarf back over his face as he walked out. Pulling out his phone, he thought about it for a moment before checking Twitter for any news. It had helped him figure out the time’s Jack would be at PAX, and he needed to know the best time to meet up with him, and if anything were to change.

Ironically Jacksepticeye seemed to be trending right now.

He tapped on it and began scrolling down, seeing a few photos of Jack. One with him in a grey shirt and backwards cap, taking a photo with his fans. That was nice. Photo was just taken a few minutes ago… Jack must be walking around.

One photo showed where he was in a red hoodie and waving shyly. That one was… also minutes ago…

Then there was a photo of him getting coffee. The doctor scrunched up his nose at that. He eyed the people in the coffee shop before looking back at the photo of him sitting at a table, waiting for his coffee.

‘There's some dude who looks exactly like **Jacksepticeye** here! He didn't want to take a photo though :(‘

_Yes, and that doesn't mean taking one behind my back was any better._ Henrik let out a frustrated sigh, slipping his phone back into his pocket before slipping out the door. Now he had to get to the event… and pray he wouldn't get noticed as he wore only a scarf to cover his identical features. He didn't bother to check the tag again, and how people were becoming more and more confused at how many copies of Jack there seemed to be running around the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a really short chapter, but it's just getting started from here! ♡


	9. Get in, get out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase finally meets up with Jack and afterwards... finds another familiar face.

Chase was on the verge of breaking down.

_ Okay, that wasn't new _ . But the amount of people recognizing him in the past half hour was ridiculous. At some point he pulled his hoodie up in an attempt to hide himself, regretting not bringing something with him to hide his face from view. Some especially blunt people looked at him and asked if he was okay. That he looked tired. That he looked sad.

Yeah he was tired. And sad. But he didn't admit that. He wasn't even Jack to begin with.

So he waved it off, apologized and scurried away through the crowd. PAX was  _ huge.  _ There were people everywhere, he was bound to run into fans of his doppelgänger here. They were all fans of games. Jack was a gaming YouTuber. Jack had millions of people following him. This was a recipe for fucking  _ disaster _ .

Chase kept telling himself he shouldn't be taking it as hard as he was. People were excited, they were hoping for a chance to meet Jack. Besides, it was his fault he didn't bring something to cover his face to begin with...

He worked his way through the crowds, eventually ending up exactly where he needed to be through a rough map and good intuition. Usually he'd get hopelessly lost in a situation like this, but fate must have had a kind heart today and brought him directly to the signing. 

The father was actually early, for one of the few times in his life. He walked over and waited in line for a while, swiping through his phone to pass the time… social media, sometimes playing a game or two. Looking through articles online as he learned more from posts online. He finally ended up on Twitter, though usually stayed away from it considering how much  _ drama  _ went on there. A smirk came across his face as he saw Jacksepticeye trending. Must've been something he messaged.

But when he clicked on it he saw multiple photos instead. Not screenshots either. Some of which he recognized being himself… at least they had the courtesy to mention that he was  _ Chase _ and not  _ Jack. _

But there was an array of others from different spots too. Some photos where he had glasses on, one he had a red hoodie with no glasses, black hoodie with white accents… they all said they were  _ at  _ this event, but maybe they were posting old pictures? What even was Jack wearing? He was reading one of the captions when he caught on to something pretty interesting.

‘He said his name was Jackie and ran off! Lmao Jack wyd.  **#Jacksepticeye** ’

Okay, that's two letters off, but still weird. Why would he run away? Maybe he was busy? Who knows.

‘There's some dude who looks exactly like  **Jacksepticeye** here! He didn't want to take a photo though :(‘

Weirder..? This guy had glasses on and a trench coat, it looked like it was posted right after the photo was taken this morning. And it's not Jack? What was going on?

His eyes glanced at the right corner, up at the time. It was just a few minutes until Jack would show up. This was his one chance to meet up with him, he could think about shit later, read up more  _ later _ .

He slipped his phone back into his pocket, pulling his hoodie up over his face a bit to try and hide… but the person behind him looked at him funny the moment they let their phone fall down from their face…  _ shit, here we go... _

“Jack?” The fact people turned at the mention made his stomach turn.

“I… I'm not Jack.” He said quietly, and thankfully, as if on cue, the person in question finally walked out. He in fact had a black hoodie with white accents on the sleeves… strange, who knows what happened to his red hoodie? Either way, Jack was out and now their suspicions dropped. Chase let out a relieved sigh, letting his gray hood finally fall back down.

“You look just like him-”

“I'm well aware.” Chase snapped, the girl even cowered a bit at his tone. He immediately regretted it, but… he just was tired of it. Tired of being mistaken for someone else, “... I’m sorry.”

“It's okay…”

His eyes wandered up to Jack, and for a second he didn't know… shit, would he be able to talk with him long enough? Will he be able to explain his situation?

Anxiety began taking hold, every worry cramming into his brain. He was stressed. So fucking stressed… he shouldn't even be here. He should be at home, in California. Back across the whole fucking USA. If he hadn't been so worried about himself, maybe he would have noticed Jack rubbing at his head a bit as he sent someone away to meet up with the next person.

The girl from before made sure to tap Chase on the back gently, reminding him to move up in line. He quickly apologized and walked up a bit to catch up.

What could Jack sign… he brought some sticky notes. That would work. Maybe his badge too? Sticky notes could get lost…

After a moment of thinking, he settled on the notes anyways. The ones he slipped into his pocket because he was thinking about something for him to ‘sign’ in the morning. It was more… he just needed his phone number, but this worked too. He could put it in his phone right after, it would be fine.

As the line moved up, he wrote on the sticky note with a fading pen. It was still readable, thankfully, and tried to keep it short for Jack to understand… but after his first attempt he tried another. The second was much better, slipping the first crumpled note in his pocket to throw away later.

‘Jack.

My name is Chase, and idk if we are related? I know this is weird but I don't remember anything about myself and I was hoping you knew something. Can you help me out? (If not that's okay)’

A part of him wanted to crumple up this note too, but it was nearly his turn. He shifted nervously, and eventually he was next- Oh.

He was next. Fuck. He was trembling. Come on, come on… it's fine. Relax Chase… in for four… hold it, and out… six seven eight… breathe, it will be fine-

“Next.”

_ It’s not fine. _

He hesitated, taking one step and then another as the guards next to the line stared holes into his back. Jack was waving towards the last person, just to turn his head, and look directly at Chase.

Fuck, it really was like looking in a mirror… exactly the same. Same eyes (well, his were a bit brighter), same face, same hair really. Same beard too, and it almost made him laugh that they shared gauges. They really were alike…

Chase immediately snapped himself out of that trance. He had a little bit of time, he needed to use it. Okay.

He wanted to talk… but he was too nervous to talk. Okay, no talking, but he could hand him the notepad, and did so quickly with trembling hands. Jack looked down at it, taking the time to read it before holding onto it. His brows rose halfway through. Did he know something? Did he recognize me? What was he thinking?

“Chase, is it?” Jack asked, looking back up at him with a smile, then back down as he wrote on the notepad.  _ The voice was similar too. _

“O-oh… yeah. That's me...”

“Where are you from?” He asked, handing him the notepad back. Chase didn't bother to look at it, quickly slipping it away into his hoodie pocket. A smile formed on his face at how happy Jack was.

“California, actually. You're… Irish, huh?” Chase said with a small chuckle, Jack laughing with him.

“Sure fuckin’ am. Want a picture before you go?”

Chase nodded, letting another nervous laugh out, “Hell yeah dude...”

Chase slipped his phone out, swiping to the camera. He wrapped an arm around his lookalike’s shoulder, taking a quick photo together before security tried to intervene. Jack gave him a gentle pat on the back as Chase was about to leave, “I'll talk to you later.”

“Yeah, see ya.” Chase said before walking out. Some of the people in line looked up and gave funny glances at him, then back up towards the front to see Jack was still there. Which he was… but by the time they tried to look back at Chase, he was long gone.

  
  
  


Chase glanced around a bit before jogging away to an empty corner. At least, emptier. There were so many people here, he was lucky to find anywhere to relax. He turned and rushed through a random door, one that led into a long open hallway where some people decided to rest as well, some walking along and talking happily.

Chase leaned against the wall before pulling out the notepad, and a smile formed as he saw the phone number.

_ Call me at 8. _

That went… really well.  _ Super  _ well, actually, considering he only had seconds to talk with him. A part of him thought Jack would send him off with nothing. It made him wonder what he knew… but he could ask at eight.

He pulled his phone out, entering in the contact number. He decided to put it under Jackaboy as a joke, smiling as he hit done.

“Jack?”

_ Ah fuck. _ Chase quickly slipped the notepad away into his pocket with a sigh, as well as his phone. He looked back up at the man speaking to him, “I'm not-”

Same blue eyes. Same hair color. Same… face. But this wasn't Jack. He had a different, more stern look in his eye. Glasses, trench coat, and a scarf he was starting to pull back up over his face.

Chase stared in confusion, “Uh… who are you..? And… no I'm not Jack.”

“You are not? But I thought you left signing…” This man’s accent was making Chase’s head spin. It was clearly not Jack’s Irish accent, but Chase couldn't pin it down just yet.

“No… no I’m Chase. I just met with Jack… I didn't know there were… so we are triplets then?” Chase asked quietly, tilting his head.

“Perhaps... vell it iz nice to meet you, Chase. You can call me Henrik.” He held out a hand to shake, and Chase took it. The accent was finally setting in, he sounded German.

“Henrik…” He paused for a moment before his eyes lit up happily, “Do you remember anything? About us?”

“I… vas about to ask you the same thing. I don't remember anything… I just suddenly-”

“Appeared. Four years ago.” Chase finished for him.

“Yes… how did you know?”

“That's the same with me…” Chase said, rubbing at his arm nervously, “I came here for answers.”

“Me too. Seems ve only found more questions, hm?” Chase laughed with Henrik.

“Yeah… fuck, I didn't even think about another person showing up but… Henrik I'm so glad you're here.” Chase admitted, and Henrik gave a warm smile in return, “... what do you think happened to us?”

“Not sure. It vas sudden, I appeared inside a hospital in Germany.”

_ Wow. Okay. That's on the other side of the world. _ “Oh shit, uh, I just showed up in California. USA.”

“... not much of a connection zhere, hm?” Henrik hummed.

“Nah… but maybe there isn't supposed to be.” Henrik raised a brow, “... maybe it's a big coincidence… where we were, at least.”

“Mhm… say, vould you like to join me for lunch? I vas planning on talking vith Jack, but zhe line is far too long now… I vas going to see if I could visit tomorrow.”

“Oh, I might be able to help with that. I'm not sure if he'd be okay with it, but I'll ask when I call him… and y-yeah, of course.” Chase smiled at Henrik, following alongside him. He wasn't actually planning on eating… but he wanted to talk with Henrik. Just about him in general… he wanted to get to know anything about him. It was like a brother he never even knew he had, and he was excited to learn about Jack as well.

Maybe coming here wasn't a bad idea after all.

  
  
  
  
  


It became increasingly obvious that this ‘Chase’, wasn't Jack. One reason being that Henrik saw Jack still signing at the booth as they turned to leave. Another being… he looked more thin. Tired. It was evident in his eyes that he had been through a lot… and the fact he tried to avoid every question asked about him only fueled that something must've happened.

They decided to leave the convention for now, grab something to eat elsewhere. They could always go back considering they got passes for the full day. It would be a  _ pain  _ to get back inside, but Henrik refused to eat any of the junk food they served at the convention to begin with. So, they chose a small place nearby, to relax and get to know each other.

Henrik still didn't like the food, but considering this was another country, he counted it more towards the fact he wasn't used to it yet than fully disliking it.

As they were eating he noticed Chase always avoided his food, saying he'd eat it later. Yet, he never took a single bite. Actually he argued he didn't want to eat to begin with until Henrik pressured him into getting something. He'd noticed earlier he was thin, but he was beginning to suspect it was food related now rather than his build.

Now… normally someone would be considerate, try and encourage healthy eating habits as little hints in conversation.

But Henrik never was one to be subtle.

“Chase… have you been eating regularly?” The man tensed at the question. His eyes darted to the side as he began to fidget with his hands under the table. He was probably moving his foot nervously too. Henrik could read him like an open book.

“Yeah, I've been eating fine. My... doctor said I'm healthy. Why..?”

“Is zhat so?”

“Yeah..?”

“Vell, get a new doctor.” Henrik smiled at Chase’s confused glance. He set his drink back down with a sigh, “Remember vhen I said I appeared in a hospital?”

It slowly set in, “... oh. You're… you're a doctor?”

“Finish my training to become a doctor next week. Hopefully one day I can become a surgeon.”

“Wow, really?”

“Yes, and I can tell you need to  _ eat  _ your food.”

Chase let out a quiet sigh, poking a bit at his food like a kid. After a few seconds he forced himself to take a bite of a french fry.

“... So, you valked around, vith no way to hide your face?”

“Yeah… pretty stupid of me. I didn't know what to use without drawing attention... The scarf was a smart idea.”

Chase smiled as Henrik chuckled, tugging his scarf off and handing it over to him, “Here, you can borrow it.”

“What?? But I-”

“You need it more zhan I do. Zhe glasses and accent is enough for me to explain myself.”

Chase hesitated before taking it, wrapping it around his neck before tugging it over his face, “...Thank you.”

“You are velcome. Now pull zhat down and eat.”

Chase sighed in defeat and tugged the scarf back down, taking another bite of a french fry with a playful smile slowly forming on his face.


	10. If you've got it, flaunt it!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin wears his mask and cape to the convention for no other reason besides pure fun. It apparently attracts the attention of a strange man in a Spider-Man costume.

Marvin smirked as he tugged the puffy sleeves of his blouse down a bit. He pulled up his blue high waisted pants before slipping his mask on over the makeup he had put on, tugging his white gloves tight. A part of him suggested high heels… but no, not this time. That would kill his feet. Wedges were good enough here, his outfit already made a scene… and he loved it. Because if this cat was going to show up, he was at least going to show up in style. The days of an edgy black cloak and boring dark colored shirts were long behind him.

He slipped on his shoes starting to walk out when his eyes caught sight of his old black cape laying on the couch. Cape, no cape, cape…

In the end, he grabbed it. Sure it didn't match that well, but… it was more for comfort anyways. The blue of his pants even reminded him of his old button up which was long lost by now… who knows where it went, but his mask and cape were still here. A mask he wore proud.

He tied the strings of the cape in a little bow around his neck, letting it flow behind him.

Yes, a scene he was going to make indeed… maybe he'd even tease Jack a little. Might be fun...

One thing he didn't have to worry about the moment he walked into the event was getting recognized. Did he get stared at? Absolutely. But no one thought at all, for even a second that he shared a face with a celebrity in the building.

There were likely people who criticized him from afar, but never to his face. He could sense some harsh stares. Stares that were against his outfit choice, but some stared at him with a look that said something more along the lines of; good for you, fuck what other people think. 

It made him smile either way. 

It made him smile even more when someone walked up, asking for a picture. They probably thought he was from a game, or maybe just because he looked cool and wanted a photo. Either way, he didn't hesitate to comply, leaning down a bit with a sassy pose to follow as she snapped a photo.

  
  
  


Marvin had taken his time to walk around, enjoying the sights for a while. Unfortunately some of the games he tried to play glitched out on him… but he was used to that. Sometimes he'd actually manage to play for a good amount of time, little games he never really knew, but they were entertaining! And he got so excited about it not glitching out that ironically it broke the machine right after.

Thankfully he wasn't kicked out… he decided against games after that incident but he was still giddy after playing them.

Suddenly a hand tapped on his shoulder, and Marvin whipped his head around to catch the person who tried to catch his attention. He was ready for a punk kid, who'd probably tell him to go suck a-

Uh… no, it was just someone in a dorky little Spider-Man costume. Still possibly a punk kid? No, honestly his build suggested the opposite. Even if the hoodie wasn't fully form fitting, this guy looked like he could crush him with his arms if he wanted to. Marvin still didn't know if they were friendly or not, and narrowed his eyes, “Can I help you?”

“You look really cool, can we take a picture?”

Marvin’s suspicions drained away and a smile spread across his face, “Oh! Of course!” He smiled and rested a hand on the man’s shoulder as he pulled his phone out. He snapped a photo of the two of them and pulled the camera away. The eyes on the mask squinted happily before he looked back up at Marvin.

“Thanks!”

“You're welcome.”

The man paused for a moment, looking over Marvin again from his mask. The eyes suddenly grew comically wide, “... J… Jack?”

“Oh, no I'm not Jack. My name is Marvin. Who might you be?”

The man backed away, then tried to slip away into the crowd without another word. That can't be good. 

Marvin quickly followed behind, watching him turn and rush down a less crowded hall. The magician followed behind, and as soon as he started to run, Marvin did too, “Hey, wait!”

But he was fast. Very fast… in fact, he left Marvin in the dust the moment he had made it in that hall. He took a right, Marvin still far behind… he was quick on his feet. Marvin never thought he was out of shape, but the speed he had picked up put the magician to shame. He slowed down, catching his breath with a sigh, crossing his arms. Thankfully there wasn't too much security, and anyone seeing it assumed it was nothing… but he wanted to know who this mystery person was. Were they running off to tell people that they were Jack? Was it someone working for the AIMC? The latter would be far more concerning...

But Marvin hoped for Jack’s, and his sake, that it was the former…

With a sigh, he turned and let his cape dramatically flow behind him as he walked. He'd figure out which it was soon enough, for now he just had to find Jack.

  
  
  


And he definitely wasn't hard to find. Get to? Yes. There was a massive line in waiting.

He glanced around the area for something to do… maybe he could run up there or something stupid. It would be fun… but he wasn't sure if he wanted to embarrass Jack too much. Not yet at least, maybe after they got to know each other a bit.

As he looked around he noticed he wasn't the only one staring, watching from afar. Old timey looking man was also staring from afar. If Marvin squinted, he would've thought he was a father considering the suit he wore. Though Marvin wasn't one to judge for fashion choices. He seemed like a fun guy, a little twirled mustache. Definitely looked way too young for what he was wearing though. Cute little tie, styled brown hair, blue eyes, and… oh.

He was one of them. The copies.

Marvin’s smile returned as he sauntered over, leaning against the wall beside the little old timer, “So how are you this evening?”

The man looked up at him, probably confused as to why this cat-mask wearing lunatic was talking to him. Marvin waited for him to speak up, but to his surprise he began to sign.

Mute? Must be if he heard me.

Marvin’s eyes darted to a scarred line that was cut into his neck, and when he signed, he noticed similar marks on his wrists. What… happened to him?

It seemed like he had given up on signing at Marvin’s silence and turned to writing, ‘Who are you and what do you want?’

Marvin’s grin slowly returned. After glancing around, he pulled up his mask slightly to show off his face, “My name is Marvin, and I think we are here for the same reason.” He answered before pulling his mask back down, “Your name?”

He stared in awe for a moment before looking back down at his notepad, writing, ‘Jameson Jackson’.

“Neat, you got a last name??” Marvin smiled, to which Jameson gave a concerned glance.

‘Of course..? What do you mean?’

“I'm assuming you also just appeared one day, right? With no memories, and nowhere to go?” Yeah, Jameson was looking at him like he was crazy… but also like it was slowly making sense.

‘I don't know about appearing, but I did find myself lost’

“No identity?”

Jameson paused before shaking his head to agree, and Marvin’s smile blossomed, “Don't worry Jameson… Jamie? JJ?”

‘Any work’ he wrote with a shy, adorable little smile to follow.

“Don’t worry JJ, I'm gonna help you talk to Jack. And, maybe we can get some answers too.”

Jameson smiled up at Marvin. The dapper felt oddly comfortable around the man, even after just meeting… like they were meant to find each other. Still, this was starting to branch off into ways he wasn't sure… how exactly, this connected to the case. Because now Marvin was a suspect and…

No. No, nobody cares about the case right now. This was family! Or possibly family, he assumed so by the face, but he wasn't fully sure just yet.

  
  
  



End file.
